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Jan-Mar 2012
GENERAL EDITOR: El.ISAIIETII LAIH JN
ASSOC!ATE EDITORS: SYLVIE LEFi''VRF, NT DEIIAENE
ADV!SORY BOARD: Mi,hd !kJujour, Aotomc ( Maryse Cond
Catherine KeriJratOrecchioni, juli.1 C1t.l .\l.ty, Henri Mitterand'
Fran,-ois Rigolot, Gonzalo Subejano, Sus.m Sulenn.m. L-vct.lll Todorov '
EDITORIAL BOARD: Carlos J. Alonso, Emdy .\ptcr, Tcndolinda Barolini
Ctaudie Bcrnard, GOran Blix, Rodica DiJ.conescu. Blumcnfrld, Anne Boyman:
Peter Connor, Madeleine Dobie, Pierre Force, Ka1arn.1 (;lovn, Patricia Grieve,
Noah Guynn, Alison James, Ann Jeffe"on, Cheryl Krue;er, John D. Lyons,
Rachel Mesch, Nelson Moe, Gustavo Prez-Firmat, Je<ln- Y ves Pouilloux, Elena
Russo, Emmanuelle Saada, Maurice Samuels, Joanna Sralnaker, Philip Watts,
Caroline Weber
MANAG!NG EDITOR: Heidi Holst-Knudsen
THE ROMAN!C REVIEW is published four times a year (january, March,
May, November) by the Department of French and Romance Philology of
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www.romanicreview.org
ROMANIC REVIEW 103.1-2
JANUARY -MARCH 2012
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SI'ECIAL CLUSTER-EXAMINING HERETICAL THOUGHT
lntroduction
Juan Ruiz and rhe Hererodox
Naturalism uf Spain
A Heretic in New Spain: Alberto
Enrquez, Alias Brother Manuel
de Cuadros
Heresies and Colonial Geopolitics
Negotiating Apostasy in Vilcabamba:
Ti tu Cusi Yupanqui Writes from
the Chaupi
Thinking with the Inquisition:
Heretical Science and Popular
Knowledge in Seventeenth-Century
Mexico
The Gnostic lmprint on Parsifal:
An llluminarion of Ruins
Conflict or Union in Difference:
lnstirution, Belief, and Heresy
VARIA
jost RABASA ANO
jEss RooRiGUEZ VELAsco
RLOS HEUSCH
SOLANGE ALBERRO
IRENE SILVERBLATT
MICHAEL J. HoRS\\'ELt
ANA MORE
ENRIQUE GAVILN
ALFONSO Mnrm10L'
11
49
65
81
111
13J
LIS
Policing the Boundaries of Masculinity
in La Filie du Comte de Pontieu
KAREN LliRKHl 1"_1
Of Nightmares and Whale Oil:
Rabelais's Quart Lit're and the
Lure of Disenchantment
ANnRPI' Pu;on 1 ~ 1
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lNTRODUCTION: EXAMINING HERETICAL
THOUGHT
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only hury rhem for good. The institutionalization of the heretic in national
and commercial ventures sets the tone of ths call to examine rhe
heretical thought.
One finds a long hstory of persccurion and ideological rearticulation when
one examines the transformation of the concept of heresy during the centuries
in diverse inquisitorial n!.tirutions were active from approximately
12.10 to 1840 in france, Spain, Romc, thc nonreformed imperial domains,
and colonial in the history of modernity. We find not one but many
inquisitiom. that work not on one hur on multiple concepts of heresy that
undcrgo tr.a.n!!.formation!!o with rcspect to rcpres!!oVe and persecurory needs
thar ha ve uften led to rhc definition of reasons of !ootate. Each transformation
"t by new needs of dcfinition and action. The successive
of hcresy con\titute mhcr forms of thcological and jurdica)
cducation of !ooocietie!!o, rhar !!o, othcr incorporations of a hieratic and
formalizcd JiscoUr\C in connicting un verses: durng the ConstitutOil of the
kingdom of France; during the redcfinirion of the rl'Conquista in Spain (Jcws
wcn. con.,tituted a<; and, vice ver-.a, hcretics as Judaizers); during the
con,titution of homogenized (per\ecution of homoscxuals who were
in \Ome in-;tance'\ J!!o ill, hut in othcr.., wcrc considered herctics
inasmw.:h a\ thcy thrcatencd thc intcgrity of nature); and rhe processes
of that native forms 11t .,pirituality (if Indians wcre first
"iuhjected to inqui!!oitoral tria), a"i herctics, thc logic of here'y gavc place to
campaign' thar to extirpare idolatric\). In addition to these multiple
definition., and herctical space!oo in which the Church and Wcstern
in .. titution\ ha ve playcd a central role in dcfining hcre"iy and rhc mechanisms
for t\ rcprco;sion, JewJ\h anJ Muslim ''holar"i ha ve rcmindcd us thar heresy
in tht\e contcxt<. had a dynamic that lackcd thc verticality and proliferation
of dogma tic principie., that ha ve charactcrized thc hi!!otory of the Catholic
Church.
Thcsc are .,orne of thc prohlcm\ that thc artidc\ in this !t.,UC In
for contrihution., wc a .. kcd thc author\ to com.idcr thc following
quc\tiOil\: How , thc tran.,forrnation of thc of hcrcsy articulated?
In wh<H way., do thcologKill and jurdica! di!-.UJurses dccon"itruct the !ooamc
com:cpt thcy ha ve and rcturn it to mcicty nnd reinstitutionalizc it?
What 1\ tht reg me of or of thc saiJ com:epts?
llow do thc\t' ,;onccpt\ fund1on in thc thffcrcnt llllJU\torial in!!otitutions rhat
t:OIU..C!Vt: What an: thc m whiLh tht \ame inquir.,itorial n\titmions,
anJ JUrldica\, popularizc thc di.,,;our\c on here.,y, thcrchy a
r.,ort of IH . .jUI"iltorlnl r.,tate? What , thc naturc of rhc di"'coursc\ that populari:t.c
hcrc.,y (c.g., prmted popular lucratur.t, mcdicint-, and
in ver .. c)? What 1\ thc1r rclat1on<th1p with Juru.ltcal ttxts, Mu.:h as in rhc
nqui.,itonill \Ciltt'llLC.,? 1 iow 1\ ir that it doc., not \t'cm pm to \tparatc
INTRODUCTION: EXAMINING HERI:TICAL THOUGHT
rhe study of heresy from rhe srudy of the inquisitorial institurions rhar give
place to ir?
The question of writing aposta!ty ami heresy involves a willingness to
helievt in thc archive as a source that provides a connection ro the events of
thc Ji ves of tho!tc whu were persecuted and exduded from rhe sociallife. There
.., a leap of faith that the voices, rhe responses ro the inqusitors, the
hewilderment of being suhjecred ro processe!t rhat are often incomprehensible.
This is particular! y true about heresy since the infracons are imposed from
without. In the case uf apostasy we often find that the people involved assume
a po!.ition fully consous of breaking wirh the established social arder. The
apostate hi!t or her infraction of the dominant discourses and practices.
The apostate, a!t it were, chnoses ro step out of history and renounces the
po!!osihiliry of redemption. By this definition it would seem that apostasy
con!ttitutes a limited case of intelligibiliry. Making sense uf apostasy entails irs
circum'icription by the samc the apostate soughr ro escape from
thcir doma in. In writing srories of heresy, on rhe other hand, we are bound to
rcpeat the same that constituted their infractions of orthodox belief
and thc !tocial ordcr. Whcn do we hear the voice of the heretic? When does
thl' te.,timony in rhe an:hivc., open the possihility of lisrening to voices that
do not mcrdy reiterare the a,;cusatory speech that frames the hereric? Does
rhc documcntation of hcresy in rhe ar,;hives bear rhe imprint of temporal
and <;paria! variations? lndeed, rhese questions would lead us to renounce rhe
,;ommonpla,;c rhar rhe testimonies of heretics merely repear the inquisitors'
manuals. In approaching heresy and aposrasy we need to accounr for rhe
conditions of possibility of these infractions.
The first two artidcs approa,;h the question of heretic discourses from
rwo opposite ends. Whercas Carlos Heus,;h's article explores the ways in
which artistK di!tcourM: negotiates hererical thought, Solange Alberro's anide
cxcmplifics the poremial recuperation of the life and thoughr of a heretic
from inquisitorial records. The negotiation of hererical thought hecomes a
fundamental point whcn we consder Adorno's ideas regarding art as a mode
of thcoretical invcstigation of thc cunceprs used in languages rhat cannot be
reduced ro conuete grammar!t, hur rhar in turn examine the limits of grammar
rhi!. rcsptct, Heus,;h's article on the I.ibro de Buen Amor is
illumin.tting. Heusch rakes this classic in Spamsh letters as a poinr of reterence
for rhe comrruction of what L:an he callcd a "hererodox hcrmeneurics." His
a rtide does not prcsent the I.ibro de Buen Amor in terms nf .tn investigarion
into rhc nature of hercti.:31 rhought, inasnnKh as ir centers 1tself poetically m
rhe heart of a highly canonicallanguage. Heusch points out that in the ,:hapters
dcdicattd ro Jnwrous 11.1turalism, the J.ihro dt' Buen Amor would seem ro
nvolve around thc heterodox Aristorelianism th<tt had been ,:ondemned hy rhe
hi ... hop ot Pars Fucnc TempiLr in 1277. But Heusch txplort"s the ,;ondirions
jost RABASA AND jEss RooRIGuEz- Vu.Asco
and the ,,msequen,es uf this introduction of heterodox Aristotelianism and
takes thcm
10
a hermeneutic herctical space. The problcmanc of the Libro de
Buen Amor not only allows us to explore thc ways in which hereticaltexts are
constructed, partially hcretical and heterodox, but more importantly allows
us to undcrstand how an authorial voice can construct a "heterodox reader"
ora "heretical reader" hy means of a .. heterodox hermeneutics."
Solan\e Alherro's article recuperares the figure of Fray Manuel Quadros,
who is hruu\ht before the Hui y Office in the second half of the seventeenth
century, a time when the persecutiun uf practitiuners of Judaism had been
subjected ro autosda-f in what is known as the "Complicidad Grande"
in the first half uf thc century. As Alberro points out, the mid-seventeenth
century is already a time and a soety in which heredes to burn
at the stake was exceptional. Alberro is particularly interestcd in drawing
biographical details on Fray Quadros. lt is the individual that she seeks to
recuperare from rhe documenrarion of the case. From the dossier we learn of
fray Quadros's physiognomy, body build, curly ha ir, and age of approximately
forty. Among the property confisca red from his house is an old book that dealt
with the properties of herbs like rosemary, a complete lunary, and recipes that
evidence experimentation with oinrments, powders, Jnd primary materials
like minerals, fruits, and seeds; the inventory alsu lists a small bag in the shape
of a small animal's paw. These are hur a few details recorded in the case. For
Alherro, thc Jocuments provide empirical data for reconstructing Quadros's
practiccs anJ bcliefs. Other sections of the dossier documcnt vagrancy and
cxtensive rravds t_n Ecuador, Peru, and Zacatccas, 011 the northern
frontier of New Spam. We also learn of his schooling, first with the Jesuits
and later_at the of Mextco._Aiberro draws from the grammar of
rhe practlce.!-., whtch cnahles hcr ro define rhe task of the historian as one of
r_he of the epoch both in its religiuus institutions and in
polmcal msututtons. S he _rakes care to curtail the right we may assume as
of and freud to confine Quadros's personality within our
own mterpretattvc schcmas. And yet by the mere fact of livin
7
in the
to of modero inquisition. g
fhe 4ucstton of modern mqut\tttons takes us into a re 1 h . .
bound with thc colonizarion of the Amcn.cas Alth<> ahm
1
1
at.Js mttmately
. . . ug ca omal pro esses
can he traced hac_k ro Europcan Silvcrblatt's and Horswc\1' . L . .
thc crea non of new ractal conceptot the des"<g f . . s artJcles
'
11
o mJxed dts
and rhe of with here
1
courses,
. . . . stes no onger d
to dcvtatlon . ., from orthodoxy rather pi d . m.<tc
. . . ' . ' ague W<th f f
sp&ntual, tntellet:tual, and matcnal contammation as well . . ears o
anJ superstition, now oftcn found among the same auth .. as of lgnorant:c
. . Orttles char d . h
the Holy Trihunal. Tht mvcntwn of the Americas cntail d h, Wlt
new regime that huilt on a tradition of t e creatlon of a
e strngre that evcn
fNTRODUCTION: EXAMINING HERETICAL THOUGHT
7
when rraced back ro the Pennsula, however, manifests the emergence of new
geopolitical rearrangements of the structures of power.
Irene Silverblatt's article explores the connections between the categories of
heresy, geopolitics, and moderniry. She is particularly interested in continuiries
and disconrinuities. Hers is an exercise in periodization. Silverblatr's thesis
constitutes a long process in the Middle Ages in which heresy hardened as
an ideological scaffold under inquisitorial practices that affected not only
those who dcviated from Christian doctrine but also those who should ha ve
been more appropriately undersrood as infidels, that is ro say, Muslims, jews,
and pagans. She argues that pagans, in particular, could not be constitured
as heretics in good faith, an opinion shared by many charged with the
administration of spirirual matrers in rhe Americas. This did not mean that
there weren't cases of dogmatizers who were subjecred to inquisitorial trials, in
sc>me instances with scandalous consequences. E ven when the concept of heresy
was not applicable to Indians, the exclusion of Muslims in cerrain medieval
discourses traveled to the New World under policies that defined limpieZJJ de
sangre. jews, Muslims, and Indians, she argues, had polluted blood that made
them suspect even after their acceptance of Christianiry. Silverblatt goes on
to argue that this racial discourse constituted the geopolitical moderniry of
Spanish dominions in the Americas. But she also argues that the bureaucratic
apparatuses constituted the geopolitical project of the Spanish crown rather
than racial discourse per se. Reading Silverblatt's anide, one wonders if the
impossibility of ever becoming a full Christian would in fact justify perpetua!
slavery, rhe encomienda, if not extermination.
The question of mixture, whether biological or ideological, takes an
unexpected turn in Michael Horswell's arricle. In examining indigenous
discourses from the Andes, Horswell seeks ro recuperare forms of mestizo
consciousness. According to Horswell, we may trace hybridity as heresy in
relationship to the orthodoxies of both cultures. Beyond blood conramination,
he traces a fear of pollution of ideas and cultures-that is, there is a felt sense
of heresy not only with respect to Catholic orthodoxy but also with respect
to Andean forms of life. In this article Horswell is particularly interested in
issues of body and space in the representation of Vilcamba, which Spanish
chroniclers described as the new center of Inca resurgence; the relared
indigenous movemenr known as Taqui Onqoy; and Tiru Cusi's Instruccin
del /nga Don Diego de Castro Titu Cusi Yupangui para el muy ilustre Seor
el l.icenciado Lope Gar,, de Castro ( 1570). Translated as the
sickness," Taki Oncov disseminated the helief that Andean !Ju.JoJs, which
according ro Spanish authorities designareJ sacred
and gods that wrre worshiped in those places, were tinJily rehelling against
the foreign Christian deity by seizing and possessing the hodif"s of And.eans.
Hor!.wdl's artirle is not just about rhese of J.posto.lsy. but also abour narive
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lnJ..AM 01 V A ~ ~
Jost RABASA AND JF.SS RODRIGUEZ-VELASCO
This issue is rh< producr oi a rwo-year seminar on examining herorical
rhar condudrd in a colloquium ar UC Berkeley in February 2006. This
evenr was pan oi the proJecl of SEMMYCOLON (alter rhe Spanish, Seminario
de Estudios Medieval<s, Modernos y Coloniales). SEMMYCOLON proposed
an intellectual project that sought to bring rogerher faculry and graduare
students interested in rhe study of the culture, literature, history, politics, and
theory rclative to the M1ddle Ages, the Early Modern Period (up to 1700), and
rhe Colonial Era (up ro the end of rhe nineteenrh century). As will be perceived
bv the anides collected in this issue, the project took this periodization as a
p;1int oi depanure rather than as a dearly delimited sequence. In facr, rhe
interrogarion oi periodicity as well as of the Arlanric divide was parr of our
deliberations during rhe colloquium. The publication of rhe papees presenred
m anide iorm was delayed because both of us changed insrirurions in 2009.
Jess Rodrguez-Ve lasco wenr to Columbia and Jos Rabasa to Harvard. In
the intervenlng years severa\ participants in the colloquium published their
essays as part of their own books or feh their publication could not be delayed.
The authors included in this issue subjecred their articles and translations
ro revisic.ms for this issue of Romanic Review. We thank Monique Dascha
the contributions by Solange Al berro, Carlos Heusch,
Ennque C.av,\an. and Alfonso Mendiola.
Carlos Heusch
JUAN RUIZ AND THE HETERODOX
NATURALISM OF SPAIN
TRANSLATED BY MONIQUE DASCHA INCIARTE
1. lntroduction
In 1960, Mara Rosa Lida de Malkiel wrote about Juan Ruiz: "His devotion
is entirely orthodox, very respectful of the Church's organization and indulgent
roward the moral weaknesses of ecclesiasrics" (21 ). On the next page, she aJiudes
roan "assured and familiar religiosity" on the part of the author of The Book
uf Good Love that allowed him-perhaps paradoxically-to "complacently"
cnact his "parody of texts of devorion." Those familiar with the first judgments
of Ruiz's work, beginning in the nineteenth century, might find rhis vision of
an orthodox Juan Ruiz a bit surprising. For example, the Count of Puibusque
considered Juan Ruiz a licentious author, capable of painting "'des folies de
toutc espece" (81 ).
1
Menndez Pelayo provides the mildest evaluation of his
time, as it is not entirely critica! but rather considers the text "espejo fidelsimo
de la sociedad del siglo XIV, con todos sus vicios y prevaricaciones" ("'a faithful
mirror of fifteenth-century society, with all of its vices and prevarications") that
ref1ected ''de cien modos el extravo de las creencias" ("in a hundred ways how
beliefs could stray"; 425). Scholars have investigated these judgmenrs most
in recent decades, dragging our anonymous author by his hair, if necessary,
into themes and areas of inquiry that were-and may still be--enjoying their
hours of glory in certain academic institutions. Emphasizing marginality and
exclusion validares Amrica Castro's old idea about the "mudejarismo" of
Juan Ruiz. The conception of Juan Ruiz as unconventional, of the .. dark side,"
l. lt is worrh citing rhe paragraph: "Juan Ruiz, archprCtre de H1ta 1erait la sarire i
pleines mains dans un des livres les plus indigestes qu'ait vu paraitre l'enfance des
littratures; ce serair peine perdue que de chercher ii prciser le sujet d'un amas de
poCmes sans accord ni suite, commen!fant au nom du Phe, du Fils et du Saint-Esprit,
enrrecoups de fa bies, d'exemples, de canriques, d'mvrKacions J doa Vnus, d'hymnes
a la V1erge, de scenes d'amour, de rahleaux li(:cncieux, de folies de wutt espt.'. et
finissant par un sermon. L'auteur, violant avec auda,:e les re-gles les plus pour
marcher au gr de son caprice, a paru prendre plaisir 3. coudre ensemble un drame
rotique et une popc hurlesque" (8 1 ).
The RomJni. Rf'l'lf'IL' Vulume HU Numbers 1-li The Trustees of Columbi;l lJnnt>rSII)'
Rl.OS HEUSOI
oras an alias for .. Aben Roic," a marginalizcd_Semire, seems ro ha ve become
3
sort of commonphKe rhar, 1 believe, must he turther explored, especially wirh
regard ro the complex field of hererodoxy. . . . .
Onc of rhe rhemes rhat hest allows entry mro rh1s subJect 1s rhe peculiar
use rhc Juthor of The Book ol Good l.1we makes of Arisrotle's aurhority in
order ro justify rhe venereal inclinations of rhe poeric <1 tapie discussed by
Rico in a fundamental artide puhlishcd in El Crotal11 in 1985. The famous
stanzas seventy-one ro sevenry-six are mere examples of the many instances of
the malicious parading of authorities observed in the Book, and would seem
pracrically anodyne or simply rhetorical if the ideas formulated there did not
evoke a past, hoth far and immediate, charged with tumultuous heterodoxies
and even heresies, in Hispanic as well as foreign contexts. That is why, in
my view, we !<.hould examine anew rhe possible heterodoxies of our aurhor
precisely in terms of rhis unofficial Arisrorelianism, thus invoking another
especially signific:mt figure for heresiology, Averroes, rhe philosopher from
Cordova. Exploring the influence of Averroes on Ruiz appears ro me the best
way m approach that heterodox dimension of the Book rhar Lida de Malkiel
seemed m wanr to ignore, despite her defense of rhe Semitic nature of a work
thar she char.Kterizes without vacillarion as "mudejar art" as if speaking of
a cathedral (19).
2. Heterodox Antecedents of"Ruian Naturalism": from Radical
Anstotellamsm to Heresy
2.1 The First Heterodox Aristotelianism: The Leonese Hcresy (1216-1236)
De_ altera vita (ideisque by the famous chronicler Lucas of
Tuy, IS pracucally the only contemporary testimony we ha ve of rhe Leonese
heresy, a movemenr that was declared heretical and b d
uncertainty in the city of Leon during rhe first third f atmosphere of
The ideological battles involved were so precocious t t cemury.
ha ve bcen easily identified sorne years la ter such Aar_ that would
. as nstorehan 1
ph1losophy, and, abovc all, Averroism, were totall k
15111
natura
capable of shining sorne lighr on what was happeniy u_n nown by anyone
time. This is why the Leoneste hcresy tended to b ng
10
around that
signified he res y in Rome: rhe Albigcnsian hercsy.2
1
t "_Vith what
head of the movement was a "French" philosopher called A to thls that the
rnaldo--a name
2._ According_ ro CJ.sado, Fathra Mariana is respnnsible for
w1th the he rhe title uf Lucas of Tu asso_ciauon
altera vtla {ide1que cnntroversus) wnh rhe add1t10n "ad11er5115 Alhi e _Y s treatlse (De
tres"; hur thc fact !> thar rhe rcference to the Albigensians i!'. errores libr;
hi !>elf when he alludes tu Mamchae1sm (66). e by the author
jUAN RUIZ AND THE HF:TERODOX NATURALISM OF 5PAIN
with a long history in OccitanCatalan lands-it seems understandable that
this movement was explained as an expansion of Catharism beyond che
Pyrenees. 1t is surprising that Menndez Pela yo did not think to douht rhat
explanation and continued referring to the memhers of this movement as
the "Aibigensians of Leon.'' Mariana, Father Flrez, and nthers.
ngel Martnez Casado was the first to situare the movement in what seems
to be its most realistic context: radical Aristotelianism, or even
Aristotelianism, directly connected to the twelfthcentury translation schools
that occupied themselves with Latinizing the Arabic peripatetics. Martnez
Casado also showed that the movement's precociousness, in that it preceded
the ominous year when Averroes began to be known in France, 1217, made it
perhaps the only direct consequence of the great translation misson initiated
by Archbishop Raymond of Toledo. Moreover, if the famous Arnaldo was
frankish or perhaps Occitan, we might wonder if he was also one of the many
Frankish translators living in Hispanic lands from the middle to the end of the
twelfth century-mayhe even in Lean, whcre a powerful center of study and
translation existed. Menndez Pela yo sees him as a forger and amanuensis who
liked to corrupt the texts of Saints Augustine, Jerome, lsidore, and Bemard.
According to legend, Arnaldo was dealt a tragic end by di vine justice: he burst
into flamcs as he tried to derisively counterfeit Isidore's Libro de los sinmmos
on the Doctor Hispaniarum's own feast da y. But if rhe view of Arnaldo as
a forger could be proved, might it not ha ve been an activity he engaged in
after having heen a translator, which he could have been in previous years at
a school of translators hefore arriving at sorne Leonese imellectual center?
While it is true that Lucas of Tuy's De altera vita was written circa 1236
(Marrnez Casado 69), the movement seems to ha ve hegun around the rime of
Bishop Don Rodrigo, 1216 (Menndez Pelayo 238).1r seems rhar rhe bishop
exiled its members from Leon, but they returned afrer his death in 1232.
At that point, the movement became more deeply assimilated, involving the
municipality itself. A Leonese "deacon" who was in Rome got wind of rhe
errors professed in his homerown and decided ro return rhere to play a part
in rhe affair. This deacon, in all certainry, must ha ve been Lucas of Tuy. The
reason rhe second phase of the movement was so deeply assimilated in the
city was doubtlessly because ir hecame better organized, to rhe
philosophical or Aristotclian affirmations of irs beginnmg-which, atter
all, would ha ve imeresred nnly a minority-a religious practice, a physical
for a cult, in a stable containing the- morral remains of Arnaldo rhe
Paladn, rogether with an account of supposedly cvcnrs. llpon
hearing of these practices, Francis..:ans and newly
ro Lcon and, after expressing thcir skepti,:ism, werc sugmat_tzed as
by thc people of Lcon be..:ause they rhe .. ot Arnaldo.
friars were obliged to flee since rhey nsked bemg lynched.
thl' mcndicam ordcrs' failure to '"alm th'" Leont'Sl' .. Arnaldism,"' .ts rdated m
Lucas
0
Tuy's work, served ro give the anonymous deacon, newly arrived
from Rome, a grearer prominence. In any case, after the precipitous flight
0
the friars the deacon reestablished himselt m h1s nanve Leon, resolved 10
convince th; local government of the need ro extirpare the heretical secr from
the city. Faced with the weakness of the city government, doubt justified
hy the popular success of the movement, the deacon nsked 11 all: lf had not
rained in a long time and the drought was begmnmg to cause a pamc, so he
promised rain from God if the heretics were exiled. Such a crazy proposition
seemed convincing. The "Arnaldists" left Leon, but, instead of rain, there
was a raging fire that seemed the work of the devil as, fed by the wind, it
destroyed a good part of the city. Naturally, the people of Leon asked that
the deacon be put to death, but alter eight days ir rained and with the rain
carne the end of the heretical movement. This story, substantially "rearranged"
by Mariana, follows the models of miracula literature roo closely for us to
give it excessive documental value. lt does show, in any case, that for Lucas
of Tuy, as for those who repeated the information (Mariana, Flrez, Risco
. ), there existed a truly heretical movement, structured as a sect that had
to be taken very seriously given the fundamentally heretical character not
only of its propositions but also of its practices. Therefore, Lucas of Tu y does
not hesitare to associate them with Manichean sects, relating them with rhe
Amalricians (disciples of Amalric of Chartres) and the followers of David of
Dinat, in other words the first "agitators" of the Parisian studium which led
ro the first prohibition of Aristotle ordered by the Council of Pa;is in 1209.
Let us remember thanhe Amalrician sect professed a radical pantheism that
advocated as well as the negation of theology. The
combmallon of both 1deas resulted in a philosophy of absolute individual
hberty that d1d not know the notion of sin (man is free from fault, whatever
he beca use he partiCipares m theodicy through the Holy Spirit). The
AmalriCians could, rherefore, wtth tmpunity give thems 1 .
l
. d . ' e ves over to excesstve
sensua Ity an extravagant dress and behav10r, as suggested b ]oh
who ca lis the Amalricians "Beguards "' Th . Y annes Alzog,
e mystenous Spaniard Mauricio
Johannes Alzog, quoted in Menndez Pelayo: .. Cualquier .
Santo (aadan en su demencia), no puede recibira con el
entregndose a la fornicaCIn: uno de nosotros es el Cristo a m aun
(. .) Como separaban el Espmu y el Cuerpo de una maner Espmtu Santo
que los exceso!> de la sensualidad no ejercen influencia sobre
algunos de ellos se entregaban con toda seguridad a las impurezas ma.i _Y as1 era como
vestidos de una manera extraa, y andaban para ac y acull
5
. groseras. Iban
conocidos generalmente con el nombre de Beguardos." ("Whoemen.dgando, siendo
Sp1rit (they would add with impious madness) can not be
15
with the Holy
he gives himself over to fornication: each one of us is Christ and Way even if
e oly Spirit. ( .. . l
jUAN RUIZ ANO THE HETERODDX NATURALISM OF 5PAIN 1 S
Hispano, one of the teachers condemned in Paris, belonged to this movement.
We know nothing about him, however, except that he could ha ve been a native
of the Iberian Pennsula, whether Portuguese, Leonese, Castilian, Navarran,
Aragonese, or otherwise. lt has even been suggested that he could have been
Andalusian and a maurus hispanus.
Returning to Leon in the years 1216-1236, what is truly amazing is that
such a large movement with all its social and popular implications could
ha ve gotten its imperus from readings of Aristotle's libri naturales and, in all
probabiliry, from the version commented on by Averroes, since everything
proposed by this Leonese group, as Martnez Casado makes clear, brims with
a radical Aristotelianism and even, at points, that brand of Averroism rhat was
both radical and popular. The latter might best be termed "pseudoaverroism"
in the sense that, all throughout the thirteenth century and the first half of the
fourteenth century, specifically in France and ltaly, the supposed auctoritas of
the Cordoban philosopher would lead him to be attributed with a series of
extreme ideas that he did not always profess. lt was this radicalized pseudo
Averroes against whom Giles of Rome rose up in De erroribus philosophorun,
confronting notions such as indifferentism, an almost atheist materialism, the
theory of the three impostors, and so forth. The same would be the case with
Duns Scotus, Petrarch, or Gerson. The most significant trace of this sort of
pseudoaverroism on the pennsula is found in the mysterious figure ofThomas
Scotus, whom we will talk about later.
Anticipating such later events, these "natural or philosophic" Leonese
(naturalium), as Lucas of Tuy claims they liked to be called, already a ilude
to sorne of that "other" Averroes's ideas, such as the denial of the action of
divine providence over singular species (creatures, facts in the world, etc.),
implying the purest determinism. And this is because, at least in their first
phase, these Leonese "Arnaldists" clearly cultivated a rational philosophy-
chietly that of Plato and Aristotle--that they put above patristics. In this way,
Catholicism could be called a superstition and its fathers idiotas ve/ imperitos.
Their psychology is very close to sorne of the great ideas of Averroism, such
as rhe negation of rhe soul insofar as iris considered separare from the body,
an idea that logically leads to materialist psychology evrn though they never
went so far as to complete! y affirm the mortality of the soul but rather the
necessity of the soul's connection to the body. Even separated from
rhe hody, the soul rakes on rhe body's impassive state and rherefore comes
Since they separated the Sp1rit and the Body in ahsolure iasluon, rhey prt"tendt>d rh.lf
excesses nf sensualiry did not t"Xl'rt .m intlm."rh .. -e nHr the soul, and th.ar was how sorne
of rhem would deliver confldenrh. to rhe most crude mpumaes.
would dress in 1 "tranKe manner and heg ffllm pi;1ce ro pl::h.:e, ht>-mK known
hy the name of HeKuardos"; 1 q'"1).
a\ivc again only at the moment of Final Judgment. In keeping "':ith what was
expressed by Lucas, it is not pure matenahsts but naturahst ranonahsts who
concede a space to sorne behefs m certam elements of Chnsttan d?gma, though
these are certainly subject to a sort of ranonal cntoque. The satd naturalism
is dose to a sort of pantheism, one that considers nature as responsible for
a\1 events, not God directly. As a sort of Aristotelian First Mover, God gives
nature the power to do a\1 without the Mover's having to act, or being able
tn act, at the level of singular events. This means that human intervention
in order to obtain something from transcendence is supremely vain: neither
the material goods offered to God nor prayer to God or saints can alter an
order that is unavoidably determined by the laws of nature. The closeness of
this to Averroes's thought led Martnez Casado to suppose that the Leonese
author knew his work directly, perhaps without the mediation of written Latn
trans\ation: "debemos pensar en un conocimiento muy completo, quiz sin
traduccin escrita, de las obras del filsofo cordobs?" ("should we think
there was very thorough knowledge, perhaps without written translation, of
the Cordoban philosopher?"; 81 ) .
. These are the issues that relate this movement with Arabic peripatetics but
'" proposals and "h ,. l" '
L
. . fT Th ere tca acts went further, according to the testimony of
ucas o u y. e most Impon
he\1 and purgat ( h d'd antones, to summarize, were their discourse on
ory t ey 1 not belie h 1 h . . h
principie of evil that . d ll . . ve
111
t e atter); t elf dtscourse on t e
create a V!Stble th' ( h' h . . d
them with the Manichean d h mgs w te ts why Lucas assoetate
s,an w ytheyr . d .
thm passing as clergy in d emame asStmt ated to the Cathars);
h
. or er lo corrupt th f . hf 1 . .
t e1r confabu\ation with lew d f . e att u durmg converswn;
h
. san requentiO f
a out Mary's virginity, sacrilegio d g
0
synagogues; their blasphemy
hur ... ting into churches singing
1
us unng religious ceremonies (such as
profanatum of reliKious ob'ect during chanted offices) and
. d h . . . s, t d!Sbel f . h . '
man, an . t c1r opposltlon tu veneraf te m t e devtl's ability to tempt
ceremomc\ and mg tombs as w 11 .
h Id . P gnmages. They wuuld d e asto vanous rehgtous

3
t"' profamng vestments and p up as clergy during popular
adnd_ mducing the songs and offices,
en luan Rui7 . ensum. Wc sho ld
\ccmed .,o p!ou.., to 1 ida de M \k. alnd parodied ca . ul htake note of
Alway ... wuh J to Th ,:

non tea ours, which

the peculiar .. pedagogy .. of o( Good 1 .oue, it is 'lls
d.:Ktnnt to tht ptop\c, at time.., who publicl o
t deeJ," ). of thc\t' are r . U cn,grnatic e Y dtssemmated thetr
ont, mc.mt to int..ukatt hy thc ,,xferrnfJ/a and "fazaas.,
1 .. r aH.:J\m. d. uy . h
_q1,o prnlllot_h. ,,,n, dourina y rcprt'IH.l,\n 11\ r. e
t''lto... ,, olw.po qm le cxt..om 1 , 'lo, tic 1 "1 "Un
. 1 1 u go y 111'\nd. ,,., ...: cr'
lOJl'lllltlll e o H\po lJUC le t'nh'rr . .
0
"'otar\c M Antsronll'
ht n ( n \agrado. .. ur.'o l') lego y no
!iit:rpl'lltl' "'"li de la
jUAN RUIZ AND THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF 5PAIN 17
sepultura y mat al Obispo." ("Aman was preaching a healthy doctrine and
he was decrying the clergy's vices. The clerics denounced him before the bishop
who excommunicated him and ordered him whipped. The man died and the
Bishop did not allow him a sacred burial. A serpent emerged from the tomb
and killed the bishop"; Menndez Pelayo 239.)
lt was a very complex movement and not just Aristotelian, as Martnez
Casado tends to present it; one must surely point out its eminent precociousness.
As Martnez Casado reminds us himself, in terms of the radical Aristotelianism
that the Leonese profess, it is not until the 1250s that similar ideas appear in the
Paris Arts Faculty, with young professors such as Siger of Brabant and Boethius
of Dacia (Van Steenberghen). The big question that remains to be answered is
what impact such a movement might have had and what would be the result of
a fundamentally heretical current that firmly linked Aristotelianism with that
heresy during the time of Fernando III (known for his legendary barde against
heresy)?
4
The Parisian experiences that culminated in the 1277 prohibition
confirmed the basic risk associated with Aristotle's natural philosophy. The
case ofThomas Scotus at the beginning of the fourteenth century was another
confirmation in this regard.
2.2 Thomas Scotus, Naturalist Heretic
Thomas Scotus was the greatest exponenr of hererical Aristotelianism,
which exceeds even the defense of rationalism and Aristotelian philosophy
and its Averroist commentary, and which Van Steenberghen prefers to call
"radical Aristotelianism."
Scotus's Aristotelianism and Averroism are nothing more than the bases of
a doctrinal project openly directed against the religions of the book. We know
the principal theses of this enigma tic and supposedly apostate Franciscan and
Dominican friar through Collyrium contra haereses by the Portuguese aurhor
Alvaro Pelagio, who might have known Scotus in Lisbon when the latter
arrived rhere and was jailed because of his .. errors" after a long pilgrimage
through the peninsular kingdoms, perhaps having come from the University
of Paris. Menndez Pela yo, scrupulously following the Collyrium, summarizes
Scotus's heresies in seventeen points: 1. He does not helieve in the longevity of
bihlical patriarchs. 2.lsaiah's "ecce virgo concipiet" did not refer to the Virgin
but to one of her servants. 3. He dcfends the theory of the three imposrors:
4. to Fathtr Man.ma, Ferdinand 111, "tht" SJ.int," ",;nn su propi:t m.mn les
[a los hertjes[ arrimolhil la leila y lts pt>gaha ("would movt the . .-lose-r ;.md
wou\J hurn them [thc. hlrttu.:s) pl'rsonally"). Ste .Ju.m de hnuk 12, 11,
2HO. Sct :1\so Mln;ndt'l. Pdavo 6h4.
Moses deceived the Jews, Jesus the. and Mohammed the Saracens.
4
. lsaiah's "Deus fortis, pater futun saecuh d1d not refer to Jesus. 5. He does
not believe in the immortality of the soul. 6. Chnst was the natural or actual
son
0
God but a son of adopnve son. 7. He demes Mary s perpewal
s. He foughrrooth and nail to defend an uncomprom!Smg rauonahsm: anides
0
faith must be proved with natural reason and not Wlth scnpture; the world
must be governed by philosophers and not by theologians or canonists. 9. He
advocates permitting friars to keep concubmes and shows httle respect for
Saint Augustine and Saint Bernard. 10. He denies that Christ gave power to
Peter and his successors. 11. He does not believe that Ada m was the first man.
12. He defends the thesis that the world is eterna l. 13. He denies that there will
ever be a Final Judgment, or that the dead might be resurrected, or that there
will be glory in the next world. 14. He considers Aristotle to be much wiser
than Moses and to ha ve leda better life than Jesus. 15. He blasphemes against
the Eucharist and denies the power of Peter's keys to redeem sinners. 16. He
considers Jesus's miracles mere magic tricks. 17. He is sacrilegious about the
sacraments (Menndez Pelayo 311).
Clearly we are dealing with the most materialist and radical current of the
movem_em called Averroism, as seen in points 3, 5, 8, 12, 13, and 14-the same
type G1les of Rome and Petrarch fought against in Italy where similar ideas
penerrated very deeply during the same period. it is always risky to
try
10
define what could ha ve been the way of thinking of someone like Scotus
by phaydmg anennon
10
the few pages that Alvaro Pelagio dedicated to him. If
we a wntmgs of hts own perh . .
them and the L. b ' 'h aps sorne contrad!ctlons would arise between
ts oans wtt out a do bt 'd .
Scotus there
5
to all ap u too rapt reportatto. For example, in
' pearances a mater' r . . f
book, but ir is difficultto kn 'h
10
1St cnnque o the religions of the
the rotal negation of everyrh?w the e_xtent of his materialism. Does it reach
l
.k mg t at IS not th h . 1 d .
' e rhat of Gentil in Ramn Llull's Llibre e P YS!Ca an matenal world,
then, could jesus be God's ad . del gentJ[ e deis tres sabis' How
" d . " opnve son' And h . '
a opttve son, could he be cons'd d . ow, even t he were justan
In any case, it ts clear that t ere an tmpostor?
h l ' we compare f
t e .eone\e Arnaldi'it'i and the prop
1
d' or example, the heterodoxies of
'cotu\ against the l.isboansosa almost a century la ter by
tha_t di\tanc_e., itself from the first Hi:: with radicalized thought
Marqut:z Villanueva ("El Caso d 1 p Semltlc Averroism d'
accordinl( to ManneJ. e() averrOismo"), a somewhat' !.ng to
A
1
. . ne gets th Irect one
verroo,m o tht: umeranr \cotu\ ( .h e lffipression that th '
tht: world of rhe e as his namee
m a 1 Ml\lan mtellt:ctual conrext h h Imponed" ide< l sheems to
wa., condemned hy 'lcmplcr m' o caJ (in the Arts t at arose
rcxt., a., thc Rom J 1) and cxtra-official (d" that
an e t IJ Rosf') and th . lssemnated in
ose traced hy Francisco
jUAN RUIZ ANO THE HETEROOOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN 19
Rico. He was probably also a significantly isolated case, given his profoundly
iconoclastic ideas. This raises the question: What was a genuinely Hispanic
Aristotelian naturalism like at that time? In other words, what form existed
just before the appearance of The Book of Good Love? Fortunately, we have
a text that can illuminate this question: Virgilio cordubensis philosophia.
2.3 The Cordoban Virgil
The thirteenth century clases with a strange work in which we can observe
a give-and-take kindred to that of Juan Ruiz. In sorne ways, it synthesizes
naturalist ideas-or better yet, the ideas of the aforementioned thirteenth-
century "natural" philosophers-and at the same time does everything possible
to put them on the side of orthodoxy. This kind of give-and-take distances
the authors from the disgraceful association with Averroism to which they
were most likely subject after the bishop of Paris's condemnation of the thesis
of radical "Averroist" Aristotelianism, and much more, in 1277. Thus, in
my view, this work is of much greater interest than that which criticism has
deigned to give it since Menndez Pela yo, with the exception of Francisco
Rico, who has dealt with the Cordoban Virgil in many of his publications
and, more recently, Jos Luis Prez Lpez ("El cdice T"). This unique work,
preserved in the Cathedral of Toledo's Codex 94-22 and bound with poems
of a Golliard flavor, seems to me to be, aside from a very interesting source
of adages, one of the best doctrinal keys to understanding Ruizian and even
Manuelan ideology thanks to its content. Naturalism's clever slide toward the
idea of "how it is necessary for man to lave" plainly announces the pseudo-
Aristotelian viewpoint of stanzas seventy-one to seventy-six in The Book of
Good Love. This is worth exploring more closely.
The Cordoban Virgil presents itself as the work of Virgilius, a Cordohan
philosopher and necromancer, supposedly written in Arabic and translated
into Latin in 1290 in the city of Toledo. In the proem, the author relates that
he is writing his traer at the request of the philosophical masters of Toledo,
who need him in arder to counter their philosophical rivals in other parts ot
Hispania (which include, incidentally, Marrochitani philosophers as wdl as
others from overseas). Magnanimously, Virgil invites everyone to his heJ.Ithful
city of Cordoba, where a good philosophical meeting can take piJc<'-this
convocation being the supposed suhject of the narration. h is nor a
but rather a sort of reportatio in indirect sryle under Virg.il's thJt will
detail the theses of invited philosophers and shed light on ots own m.osterly
determinatio. The rhemes he sets out follow a very Arisrore-h.m l."llllrs(': tirst.
opininns about rhe tirst cause; second. tssues of ..:nsmolot:,y. and
natural philosophy. with a chapter ahout th1rd. h.aseJ
on De Anima; and fourth, mnml philosophy, thr <Ktlons ot m<"n. wha1

1

1
tes
51
n and what does not. After this last section of the work h
l:OilS 1 U , .. . . . , . , te
writing changes and becomes a sort of lthro de proverhtos, or saymgs
00
the subject of morality, with a dtspanty m the JUXtaposltlon of dtsconnected
phrases that Michel Foucault would ha ve apprectated. returns in his
condusion ro rhe first cause that he openly assnctates now wtth the true God
revealed as such ro intelligence. He urges Hispmri to helievc in Him, ro
Him, and 0 !ove Him. lt seems, therefore, to be a hybrid text, perhaps the
fusion of a popular philosophy treatise produced in a Toledan srhool rontexr
with sorne pseudovirgilian anthology since it includes Llmous sayings ascribed
to Virgil, which would explain the attribution of the work to Virgil and his
transformation from a Roman into a Cordoban teacher of necromancy.
Consisten! with a long medieval European tradition heginning with the
Neapolitan tradition that sees Virgil as magician, wc havc here a teacher
who converses with devils and is the leader of a sort of studium, a long with
his four Cardaban colleagues: "Seneca et Avicena et Aben Royx et Algacel"
(Menndez Pelayo 381). There are many such tales in Castilian litcrature. The
fusion of previously existing textual materials could also justify thc somewhat
rambling repetitions, unless they are there precise! y to reaffirm something that
the author believes to be fundamental.
The deverness, as 1 understand ir, of the anonymous aurhor-who must
be situated in a prvate Toledan and most probably Semitic intellectual
sphere,' unless the presence of Golliard poems in the same codex points to
the European intellectual world
6
-resides in assuming a certain orthodoxy
m key places;n arder to be able to develop polemical aspects elsewhere. And
so, the work s firsr. part serves to un do sorne of rhe propositions that
used to be assoctated wnh Averroism and that appear in the work as the
baseless optmons of Andalic d M h. . . .
h h
. ' an arroc 1tam phtlosophers spectfically
t e t ests about the eternity 0 th Id d . '
1
. . . e wor an matenal psychology whose
conc uston ts the negauon of th .
fA . e sou
5
tmmortahty, which also constitutes a
crntque o verrmst monopsychism. The work also defends the idea of the
5. Ler us remember that the end of th k .
science by reading King Solom , e wobr relates that Anstotle received all uf his
h
on s secret ooks to h. h h .
to t .e conquest of his student Alexa d h l ' w e e gamed access thanks
the eme who was lame an; one of Solomon's devils escape-
( the lame one"). e ez de Guevara would call "cojuelo"
This explai in part the a polo for t . .
m the Cordoban Virgil. However 't!/ n professum of mtnstrelsy that appears
pruhlem of bad Hispanic Latn in rh: t o authorship would lea ve us with the
la Leng_ua when he '>peaks of Juan t Valds in the Dilogo de
somethmg rhat does not happen with then;, t_s . ad Latm hefore heing good Castilian
poetry. e atmttas that usual\y characterizes Golliard
JUAN RUIZ ANO THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
constant action of the first cause (or God) over all creatures, that is to say
divine providential action whose existence or possibility was questioned by
Averroists. If we add the work's defense of hylomorphism, we recognize a
very soft form of Aristotelianism in which we could probably already see the
imprint of Thomism. But let us not deceive ourselves. From m y point of view
we are dealing with a rhetorical scaffolding that develops one of the greatest
themes of the treatise whose radical Aristotelian and even Averroist traces
would certainly not ha ve been missed by the very punctilious tienneTempier:
ir bases moral discourse on "naturallaw," with everything this implies for the
idea of sin and questions of !ove.
The starting point for all this is provoca ti ve in itself since, suddenly, in the
middle of natural philosophy issues, the discussion turns toward the habits of
Saraceni, who ha ve a great number of wives, as many as they can support. This
custom is explained by the naturallaw that our species seeks its conservation
and reproduction as well as by the command "crescite et multiplicamini." A
reasonable argurnent is added; in the end, chastity is practically impossible for
human beings: "Nullus perfecte castitatem potest observare recte" (372). In
one of the texr's many references to this topic, it says that chastity is, fi.nally,
a sort of rniracle or, in any case, a great rnartyrdom ("Qui in castitate vivir
in maximo martyrio vivir") because chastity is against nature ("qui servant
castitatem vadunr contra naruram") (368). For physiological reasons, menas
well as women (perhaps an original point made in the treatise with respect
ro similar ideas that we can see in all rhe de coitu treatises) must expel their
humoral superfluities or else run the risk of acquiring serious illnesses and
dying early. The description of someone who has not been able to expel
his humors is extremely graphic and even funny: the "pain in the side," as
the last annotation m Corbacho would say, is such that a man cannot even
walk: "quando lumbi sunt pleni semine tune temporis dolent et horno non
potest ambulare, quousque evacuantur" (352). To be healthy, therefore, iris
necessary to regular! y expel semen through the men 's virga and through the
women's vulva. (Note that the author shares the Aristotelian conception of
female semen, which also appears in his description of procreation Uacquart
and Thomasset].) Otherwisc, rhey run rhe risk of conrracting "ista infirmitas
quae vocatur cancer et multae aliae infirmitates quae dici non possunr" in
rhe aforementioned parrs of rheir anatomy. In summary, chastity provokes
cancer! Chastity kills! ("Multi hornines et mulieres moriuntur propter hoc
qua servant castitatem"; 352). What is not clear is why sorne do not indulge
in that "officium," that is ro say the sexual act, since it is so natural, common,
and necessary for the hody, just like urinating and defecating: "et ideo valde
maximam poenam sustinent omnes illi, qui castitatem servant in corpore et
in anima, quia vadunt contra naturam, quia istum officium ita natura le est
sicut est mingere et digestare ( ... )" (352). And so, those who try to be chaste
CARLOS HEUSCH
are 10 be pitied beca use of the many ills to which they expose themselves, bur
rhey must not be faulted. On the contrary, the ones who are at fault (a nice
inversion on rhe part of the author) are those who ha ve many wives bur d
not follow rhe naturallaw of trying to satisfy them. To be praised are thoso
who always feel great desire for all their wives: "illi debent puniri, qui
abundantiam mulierum et vadunt contra naturam faciendo contrarium; a\ii
vero non debent puniri quia cum maximo desiderio mulierum faciunt illum
officium" (351). Note that behind such arguments there are many things that
would have scandalized Nicolau Eymerich and others even less intolerant
rhan he. As tends to happen in these cases, the medica! and objective official
discourse about coitu tends to merge with other realms where what prevails in
the end is eroticism. A good example of this is the famous Catalan Speculum
al foder, somewhat later than this text, which quickly lea ves behind actual
medica! discourse in order to become a comprehensive medieval ars amandi
in the Ovidian sense, even offering up a very graphic description of sexual
positions, as 1 show elsewhere ("De la medicina"). With the notion of desiderio
we have left the properly naturalist sphere in its orthodox version, in other
words Saint Thomas's, which considers the sexual act to be exclusively for
the conservation of the species (as opposed to delectatio), and we have a
very ambiguous (within the Christian sphere) apology for polygamy. From
the point of view of "naturallaw," having many wives is very good, but even
bener is to desire and le with them all. In sum, these customs of the Saraceni
are not condemned but become a sort of exemplar of following naturallaw.
There is still more. This Vrgil moves on from describing Saracen ha bits
to speakmg more generally of the need that anyone, man or woman, might
of Hita had-for rnany "compaa," supporting his idea
wtth theAnstotehan theory of hylomorphism. Using the idea that "as como
la matena ape_tec_e a la forma, as la muger al varn," according to the phrase
that Sempromo
10
La Celestina made almost proverbial the author affirms
the natural need that man and h l ' .
. woman ave to ove more than JUSt one other
person (smce a form attracts many matters and vice ) . h h f 11 .
concluson th
1
fid - -k h . . versa Wit t e o owmg
gift from Go:: e Jty,
1
e e asttty,
15
practica1ly impossible without a special
forma appetit .
N 11 . 1 matenam et omms materia appetit formam
u <Jme a tero esse. Materia multi f . .
forma habilis cst U s_ ormas apta est, et
hahere unlcam formam !-.ed 1 .. na matena non vult semper
multa materia ita : ures et una_ forma semper appetit
hahet per m(;dum forma socaantur inter se. Horno
ideo qui conluncti el per modum materiae et
VCfi'JIOimc oh'Jcrvarc l!llla .un u . e ltatcm corporis non possunt
uo.,quo.,quc appetit quod su u m est. ct
jUAN RUIZ ANO THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF 5PAIN
quod naturale est diversimode est, et ideo nullus illorum prout hoc
puniendus est. (367)
From an apology for polygamy, naturalist values ha ve led ro an apology
for adultery!
7
In addition, it is this same naturallaw that leads the author to mention in
order to underscore man 's need for the sexual act, ancient practices wher;by
men, upon seeing beautiful young males, would mutilare them with a knife
to re-creare a vulva that would allow them to lie with them as if they were
women: "Praeterea dixerunt quod in antiquo tempore homines consueverunt
hoc facere insimul, et quum videbant juvenes decores aperiebant eos cum
navaculis et faciebant eis vulvas et postea jacebant omnes cum eis sicut cum
mulieribus" (351). We see here that the primacy of naturallaw practically
authorizes, since the author does not condemn it, an unspeakable crime:
mutilation.
According to our Cardaban Virgil, moral philosophy must model itself on
naturallaw. Nature dictares toman what he must and must not do. There are
many phrases (let us remember that the moral pan of the text becomes a book
of sayings) that seem to be there in order to insist, perhaps disconnectedly, that
this is the only morallaw:
Quod contra naturam est, agendum non est nec observandum [ ... ]
Quod natura dat, nemo contradicere potest et si potest negare non
debet. Quod naturale est, omnibus agendum est, et nullus evitare
deber nec potest [ ... ] Quod naturale est omnibus agendum est et
nullus deber esse evitandus. (365-67)
This Virgil tells us that it is natural to sin: "Peccare hominem naturale quid
est" (366). In fact, temptation and experience make man more of an expert:
"Qui omnia tentar et in omnibus cadit expertus est" (366). Both here and in
the saying that immediately precedes these-"De duobus malis minus malum
7. Following the pseudomedical reasoning of these affirmations, the author hurries ro
mention abstinence, that is, moderation in drinking and eating, is re"\:'ommended,
as opposed ro chastity. Therefore, it is not an apology for J!l pleasures, a sort ot
endless hedonism, but rather what is considered good for the from .1 physmlogi...-JI
point of view: "Abstinencia est principium et fund.unentum totius honi; ubi .1hsrinent1a
perfecta est omne honum ihi esr. Absrinentia perfecta c.st panem er .1quam ,.-oridi(
tanrunmodo comedere et non aliud, qui:.t panis N aquo\ est ,it.l he.\t.l. h.ln.: t"st 'lUI ulem
vitam semper facit; sapiens et perfectus est qui ralem vir.un quotldit. Anim.1 semptt
dehet Jominari er corpus suhjugari er anllotn. Per \'tam .mimo1. ('1
corpus suhjicitur ( .. ) hanc viram fit horno studinsus mmis ('f int('naosus"' (.\tJ';"),
eligendum est" -those familiar with The Boak a{ Good Lave will recal! h
end of its prologue and stanzas seventy-live and seventy-six (365). Thus
1
'
are dealing with something quite similar to Saint Paul's
by Juan Ruiz: "Provar omne las cosas non es porend peor 1 e saber bien,
mal e usar lo mejor" (76c-d). The Cardaban Vrrgrl comes back to this idea
approaching more closely Juan Ruiz's: "ideo deber horno omnia probar;
primitus et postea ex quo sciverit et probatum habuerit, tune deber se a
custodire et bonis operibus exercere" (372). So what is sin, then? Simply what
goes against nature, whereas something that is natural cannot be sin:
Omne illud quod lit naturaliter et rationaliter et utiliter diximus
peccarum non esse. Omne illud quod lit contra naturam dicimus
peccatum esse. Quod naturale est omnibus agendum est, et
peccatum non est, sed quod innaturale est, peccatum est et ideo
agendum non est. (374)
Therefore, nothing that follows naturallaw can be banned: "aliqui non est
vetitum, quia lex naturae est" (376).
This double postulare allows the establishment of an original moral
standard. Smce natural law is rational, any rational being can know it, and
rherelore all beings are conscious of what is natural and what is not. From
thts follows a proposition that many an inquisitor would lind heretical: thanks
10
hts conscence and free will, an individual decides what is and is not sin,
predatmg by many centuries th " "
h
.
1
. e autonomy o Kantlan moral law m tts
P 1 osoph1cal sense: '
Unusquisque judicabitur per conscien . .
hominis dicit sibi a1i tlam su a m; unde SI
tune sibi non re utabi . . quod .fact.um peccatum non esse,
iHud actum pecc:utur, sed st remordet, et dicit sibi
. m, tune SI 1 10 pec t b'
tune d1n:'ittendum esr. Unde uid uid ca et
et judicahit
0
q q hommes, mtentiO sua
h . 1 b mnes et ' eo m volunt t h . .
. om'.) emm i trum arbitrium habet et h b . a omtms est:
tn su potc\tate est. (374) a et dtscretiOnem et ideo
lt truc that the aurhor of the Cordoban v ..
of hi, Ari.,totclian com not very Averroist in sorne
ave. a moo,;t radical naturalism that But he profess, as we
aw. Wc ha veto look to the most dar in Jm. to cstahhsh a very peculiar
faL:ulty, who<te ldca<t wcrc uncquivol:al1 l:ondg of the Paris Arts
Anu all of thi," audrc,.eu Y emned, to find anyrh . .
prel:\dy ahout thc love n grcat mca..,ure, in ordcr to he abing stmllar.
een a man and l wnman. 1 h 1 e .ro speak
n t e ast mstance,
juAN Rmz AND THE HETERooox NATURAUSM oF SPAIN
what this Virgil is telling us is in sorne way what the real one was already
saying about omnia vincit amor (a saying thar also appears in the work), since
this natural law constantly affirms that "es necesario al hombre amar y que
amando se turbe" ("it is necessary forman to lave and when in lave, ro be
unsettled"), as a little anonymous treatise from around 1475 attributed to El
Tostado intones. The power of lave is on the side of women. They conquer
man, whoever he is, with their beauty ("Pulcritudo mulieris vincit hominem
et decipit eum"), as is amply demonstrated, in the end, by the legend ofVirgil
himself who, like Aristotle, was deceived by women: "Tam sapientes quam
insipientes a mulieribus fuerunt semper illusi et decepti, ideo nullus a muliere
potest defendi" (372).
Woman deploys such a natural power over man that she lea ves him deprived
of his senses: "Amor mulieris extra hit hominem a sensu suo naturali et postea
sic decipit eum" (370). But in the Cardaban Virgil these ideas do not lead to
a misogynistic text, as they do in most other sources that discuss them. On
the contrary, the defense of !ove between man and woman, and especially
of conjugal love, permeates practically the entre work in a cultural context
where, at least on the other side of the Pyrenees, the ideals of fundamentally
extramarital courtly !ove were being defended. This Virgil, as well as many
other philosophers nourished by Aristotelianism, tells us that husband and
wife must lave each other and support each other mutually, physically, and
materially: "Vir et mulier qui conjuncti sunt verissime se debent diligere et
alter alteri se debent teneri tam corporis quam pecuniae" (366). The author
conceives of marriage as the union of two loving wills, according ro natural
law. And if this law is not respected, the marriage somehow stops being valid
and neither one of the pair is at fault: "et si aliquis illorum contra fecerit si
verissime probatum fuerit, jam alius non tenetur sibi veritatem custodire, sed
deber similiter agere et prout hoc nullus illorum est puniendus" 3 6 6 ~ 7 ) .
In this version of naturalist morality we are far from marriage as a
sacrament that man cannot undo, that coerces couples and infllcts u pon them
a whole system of obligations. As we have seen, "physical" fideliry is not even
required (since matter is attracted by many forms). According to the author,
the naturallaw of conjugallove can become, therefore, the most pleasant state
in this world, the greatest worldly glory: "sed super omnia gloria et dele.:tatio
insaciabilis et perfecta est conjunctio mulieris et viri et hic est tr Jnsse-ntio
amoris" (372). The Cordohan Virgil accords to conjuga! rel.ttionships nothing
less than the highest leve! of !ove that can be attained in this life. lt is !ove
with transsentio amoris ("fulfilled feeling") that the author does not doubt
R. See tht" anonymous Tratado dt> cmo uf lmmlm r$ nrasdrro ''"'' tC.ur-dr;,, .. lh:-1
Tostado .. 1 0).
CARLOS HEUSCH
. . . n that is in principie reserved for the "good Iove"
1
. . 11 ng cantas, a ten f d o
m ca 1 1 the archpriest's book, the !ove o Go . Here conjugallove
the pro ogue
0
. 1 h 1 b h
. .d. f ourse since lt IS emment y p ystea' ut w at IS cunous
IS cupr rtas, o e ' " . h' 'd. fl .
. . .
1
el\ as "heterodox, IS that t IS cupr ttas ows mto caritas
andongma,asw h 1. . . d' 1 '
conceived of as transcendent !ove. The aut or exp ams It m Irect y with the
insatiable character of cupiditas. Unhke what many of the troubadours 0
thought, the fulfillment of carnal deme does not sat1sfy but rather
heightens it. Love keeps growing and growmg wnh each carnal encounter
berween the husband and wife until it reaches the h1ghest poss1 ble leve!, which
is transcendens or "excellent" \ove. The text says:
Homines nunquam satiantur mulieribus; nec mulieres nunquam
satiantur hominibus. lnter homines et mulieres regnat semper
cupiditas insatiabilis. lnter homines et mulieres regnat caritas
perfecta ... ideo caritas, quod est amor transcendens non regnat
nisi inter homines et mulieres: ideo qui sunt conjuncti et in carita te
vivunt optime vivunt et haec est gloria hujus m un di carnalis copula
et in hoc mundo sic regnat caritas. (375)
. The end of this passage could not be any clearer or more exclusive: this
IS the greatest the glory of this world, and no complete glory is
posSible Wlthout \ove. ThiS seems to echo all h 1 . 11 r
from The Book o( Good Loue to L p enomeno ogiCa ove lterature,
Tostado's Breuiloqu d a Celestma, passmg through, of course, El
10. e amor e arnl\l\la,
Where does a treause \ike this come from) M, .
clue w_ hen he quotes from the L 'd . arquez V1llanueva offers a
. . UCianothat'f h
(the Luc1dario of Sancho IV. f m act, IS contemporary to t e
IV ordered the composition
0
thls rom 1293). He reminds us that Sancho
h h
. . " treatlse to "fi h
t reatened 1s kmgdoms" ("El caso"
124 1
. g t a threat of heresy that
teachmgs of schoolssimilarto theth
1
_). htS threat was fomented by the
Lucida ro his education 1 ones in which the disciple of the
h . . by hi
t e young diSCiple attends these schoo\s of s natural thirst for knowledge,
appearances, like the Arist t )' natural philosophy where to all
being taught of the "radical" or "A
0
e anism of the Pa A F '
d f verrolst" ns rts acu ty IS
an nght demonstrated hy the disciple wh sort, iudging by the er lexit
almost as 1f he were confessino . en he speaks
1
h' Ph P b y
1 k d
Th "' a \m !'.Jnce
0
1s teac er a out
1 e lt. e text th M. '10 the end h h .
1 .ucidarm s the following: at arquez Vi\lan ' e as tasted 1t and
ueva quotes from the
jUAN Rmz ANO THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
contest;eme muchas vegadas que vo alla a estas escuelas, ha algunas
dellas, por veer que tales son e otrosy por oyr los maestros que
y estan leyendo si amuestran tan bien a sus como vos
mostraredes a mi. E acaesc;eme asi que he de entrar en algunas
destas escuelas [en] que leen el arte que llaman de naturas e falle
y buelta muy gran disputac;ion entre los escollares con su maestro,
e tan grande fue el sauor que dende obe de aquellas cosas que y vi
disputar que me vos quiero manifestar de toda la verdad, e torne
y muchas vegadas por oyr porque aprendiese mas. E quanto bien
pare mientes en aquellas cosas que alli oy, falle que muchas eran
contrarias de las que oy a vos, e enante que lo viniese a disputar
con otro escolar, qu{i]se lo veer antes con vos que sodes mi maestro,
que me diesedes rrecaudo a las cosas que vos yo demandare segund
lo que saberles e entenderles.
Teacher, 1 am your disciple and you ha ve taught me much that is
good but the knowledge yo u ha ve shown me is all theology, and in
this town where we live there are many schools where many [kinds
of] knowledge are read, and ir has happened ro me many times that
1 have gone ro these schools, ro sorne of them, ro see how they are
and also ro hear if the teachers who are reading ther< teach their
disciples as well as you teach me. And ir has happened to me that
1 ha ve entered sorne of these schools where they read the art called
nature and have found there a great debate herween the students
and their teacher, and the pleasure 1 got from these things thar 1
saw debated was so great that 1 want ro tell you the whole truth.
and 1 returned many times ro hear so 1 could learn more. And when
1 thought upon the things that 1 heard there, 1 found that many of
them were contrary ro those 1 heard you say, and heiore going ro
debate with another scholar, 1 wanted ro consider ir lirst wirh nm
who are my teacher, so you could respond ro rhe rhinv; 1 will .ISk
you according ro what you know and understand.("EI .:aso" 124)
The teacher's response, in Christi;.tn orthndoxy and on a
version of Honorio de Autun's old deric's manual, is me;.tnt tll the
flaws of the doctrine that gave so pleasure to the young .. i intX('t"rl('n .. 't'1.i
disciple. The teacher's effort tn demonstroltl' tlut .. l'l mundtl ...:umiC'n,-o nhn ..
("rhc world had ,, hc11inning") is a cltor indi.:.trion Ih.ll rhr ol "n.uure
followed hy the disdple is markld hy Anrroism, Slllt..'t' tht'rt' is no moft'
Averroist proposition at the end of du thirtt'<"nth t..'t"ntury .md the hq:,mnnltl
of rhc fourrcenrh rh.tn thlt of an ttcrnal world rh.lt hd no wtll
l8
CARLOS HEUSCH
ha ve no end. lt was not necessary to ha ve read a line of Averroes to know this
at that time. The Lucidario's tesnmony demonstrates that, at the end of the
h
. th century and the begmmng of the fourteenth, parts of Castile h d
t .. l" h'l h . a
a heterodox climate encouraged by natura p ' osop ers: parttcularly in
Semitic philosophical spheres,' that would ha ve evolved not mto universities
or the studia so/emnia of Dominicans and FranctScans,
10
but rather into centers
that were not excessively official or academic. Certainly naturalistic ideas were
taught in privare schools, which, as Mrquez Villanueva suggests, escaped
all academic regulation, calling them "non-regulated schools" as opposed 10
university settings. To support this thesis, Mrquez Villanueva also reconsiders
the origins of the Libro del caballero Zifar, pushing its date up to 1301 beca use,
in this doctrinal context of possible heterodoxy: "se esfuerza por contrarrestar
los errores que en material teolgica y moral son sembrados por hbiles judos
en los salones de los reyes de la nobleza" ("makes an effort to counterbalance
the errors that are sowed by talented Jews in the rooms of kings and nobles
in matters of theology and morality"; "El caso" 125). According to Mrquez
Villanueva, the novel used the legend of Saint Eustatius to advance its goal.
However, let us not get into the complicated question of Zifar's edition, which 1
think, a long with others, must be situated somet me after the death of Mara de
Malina ( 1321 ), or into the subject of the legend of Saint Eustatius, which, in the
case of the Z1(ar, .is a clear example of the dense relationship of intertextuality
that lmks r up wtth sorne of the "stories" included in the miscellaneous codex
Esconal h-1-13 (Plcidas, Rey gullelme ... ). We should, however, take up the
suggemve tdea of the existence of cemers of "free" learning where an ideology
somewhere berween Aristotel' dA .
d . fi . amsm an verrmsm was rife-the same kind of
octnne we ndbm the Cordoban Virgil and The Book of Good Lave. Their
ex1stence must e raken mto b
link between naruralist ideas ecause constitute an important
at a time when tho d thetr appearance m concrete Castilian texts
se 1 eas were yet ro be f d . " ffi . . ..
Salamanca wil1 have to w .
1
.
1
M oun m o ctal" umverstues.
al unu artin V' fif h
cenrury ro open up to Arist l' s new statutes in the teent
ote tan naturalism (d. the teaching in the Arts
.. En aquc\la.,_c.,cuelao; de arres dt la!. naturas
dtro: ''ilno hahnan de c.:on toda probahT J d {. _.) su_s maestros no pertenecan al
c .. pan<JI "''era <,n(J, de e'>tt moJI), udtos. h- o_ t_ri-linges. El a verroismo
of .Naturc '>{;hool., hi, tcachcr., Wt:r ame_nte scmltlco y popular." ( .. In those
or .lcw ... \pam .. h Averroi e not !.:_lcrgy; rathcr they were robably
th:udcdly and popul H" M. . was not Latin in th" p
1 O. In tho" studw S(lonm: , 1 arque t. Vllanucva, "El ('1'; " 12 IS way, rhey were
Walttr Burlt'y\ :uggc<,ttd a wh,Jc av,o, o;;l' <:o 6).
nJtural and mor.tl ph
1

0
,, ph ' t:ntm prat"tit.:c that rrtu tld havc to wait for
dJa'-tlCI,m<, y hett-rod<JI(IIa";, 111 on tr t<J rcad av,ain the thc. orthod<JXY of
'
1
A.n"totle ("Fntrt'
Faculty of El Tostado and bis disciples). lt is by means of cemers such as those
referred to in the Lucidario or the Cardaban Virgil (with their professorships
in natural philosophy, astrology, necromancy, geomancy .. although with
their more than 7,000 students, too suspiciously well attended for us to rely
on this information), where we could even imagine placing the perorations of
the itinerant Thomas Scotus (at least the less irreverent ones), that we would
have a realistic source for the ideas of Juan Ruiz. As 1 point out in "'Por
aver juntamiento con fenbra plazentera': el astuto naturalismo amatorio de
Juan Ruiz," the Leonese heresy strongly indica tes the presence, in Castile, of
a radical Aristotelianism independent from Parisian movements. This might
explain, in turn, Juan Ruiz's reception of similar ideas.
In arder to move from hypotheses to facts, it is imponant to refer here to sorne
data that Professor Mrquez Villanueva would have had difficulty knowing
in 1997. The University Lumiere of Lyon (Lyon 2) published an important
monograph coordinated by Professors Bazzana, Briou, and Guichard with
the oft-handled title Averros et /'averroisme. One of its articles, by Guichard
and Molnat, provides two facts that could ha ve had important consequences
for the matter at hand, in spite of the fact that it also mentions the infrequency
of direct exchange between Andalusian and Christian intellectuals. The first
is the certified fact that Averroes's grandson spent time in Toledo. Given that
he had received direct instruction from bis maternal grandfather, he could
ha ve been a direct vector of transmission in that city, bringing Aristotelian
science to Castilian territory around the same time as the Leonese heresy.
The second fact, even more significant for our purposes, refers to rhe figure
of a wise man, the Granadan doctor Abu Muhammad 'Abd Allah b. Sahl
al-Gharnat, mentioned by Mustafa Benouis in bis rhesis, who resided in rhe
border city of Baeza, where he gave classes in logic, mathematics, and "the
sciences of the Ancients," in other words, classical philosophy, among orher
things, all of which obviously points to Averroes. Of even greater imerest are
indications that Toledan Christians carne to ai-Gharnati's school in Baaa,
which passed from Muslim to Christian rule during that tinlt', in order to
follow his teachings. As we can see, the eventual Christian (Ollmizdtion ot
Andalusia in the thirteenrh century saw no reason ro dose these pri' .ue
schools where teaching was offered to interested Chrisuans who c.tme .tll
the way from Toledo ro Baeza. In addition, the cases reierreJ to in
and Guichard's article make out as '' that was
to these ideas. In this wav. we can further holster the notinn rh.u .t rddh..:tlln
Averroist existed that was Hasp.lllh.. rh.n .t Sc.nutK
Andalusian philosophy did leavt ;.tn import.mt Jo'-trin.tl ootprill1
the thirttrnth ccntun:, and, finallv. th;.tt ;.tll o this '-ould h.tve th(
cultural hackgrounJ author.lih Ju;.tn mc:.tlh llf pr1\ ,\t(
like those in Toledo.
CARLOS HEUSCH
30
h
. C daban Virgil seems like a sort of possible textb k
1
many ways, t 1s or . . oo
0 .
1
d
1
perhaps Juan RUiz.ln any case, 11 pro poses a naturali
for a potentla stu en . h R . e Id h h St
. . h d mentally agrees Wlt u1z s. ou t e aut or 0 Th
ViSIOOOflovet at un a h y > l h e
f
G d L e
ha ve read this apocryp a rg ave yet to find any
Booko oo ov h 1 dld fid
. h Id contradict this. On the ot er 1311 , o n a terrain of
evidence t at wou . h k .
sorts that suggests a positive answer: to all appearanl:eS t. e wor Is_Toledan,
as was the formative environment of the supposed archpnest, we thmk.IJ We
have the date
0
1290 for the Cardaban Vtrgtl, and . as vanous cnllcs recall,
around the yeats 1322-1330 Juan Ruiz was composmg a mature work since,
as he himself says, his work is nota patchwork made by an "alfayete nuevo"
("new tailor"; 66b).12 The last decade of the thirteenth century could therefore
correspond to the period of the author's apprenticeship in Toledo, where he
might ha ve gone ro find "demons," according to Cesreo de Heisterbach's old
saying.n And since hypothesizing is free, we might even as k ourselves whether
the text we are considering-i its crude Latin so indigestible for someone
like Menndez Pe\ayo that,
14
in the erudite's words, "no pasar nunca de
una extravagante curiosidad bibliogrfica" ("it wi\1 never be more than an
extravagant bibliographic curiosity"; 407)-might not be the work of an
anonymous Toledan student who first usurped the famous Virgil's name and
then wrote sorne d:cades \ater, practica\ly within the same ideological frame, a
long poem for whtch he usurped, with even more mal ice the na me of another
famous "Cordoban" philosopher who appears in the that of Aben Royx
(Averroes), who w\1 change into a much more prudent Johan Roiz or Juan
11. Concerning this Toledan intellectual c l
Love, see the works of Prez Lpez. uc e and the creation of The Book o( Good
12. According to Prez Lpez, the date of com ..
be pushed back to 1322 ("Investigaciones") posltlonofThe Book ofGood Lovecan
13. clrigos van a Pars a estudiar las libe
1
.
me.dJcamentos,. a Toledo los diablos y a nin r: esa Boloma los Cdigos a
( Cienes go to to study the liberal ans, to parte las buenas costumbres
to Toledo the Dev1l and nowhere to stud gna the Law, to Salerno medicine,
14. "La latinidad de la obra supera en manners"; Menndez Pela yo 825).
la Edad El autor parece estudiante: desconcertados escritos de
the work 1s more barbarous than the most disco rudos" ("The Latin nature of
The author seems to a student, and one of Wtitings of the Middle A es.
the schools and educanonal centers allud d . e roughest") F M , g
"Con ideas confusas de filosofa rabnica e to . or b enendez layo,
de artes mgicas y fantsticas noticias dey e taken senously:
con sobrado candor, han tomado por lo e ue haba alcanzado
about the magical arts and fantastic news b e mix.es wh algunos eruditos,
ahout Rahbinical and

school at he had understood

iE senously, wuh too much candor" 405) m p
1 050
Phyand sos and teaching with his
' . tll.e scholars ha ve taken
jUAN RUIZ ANO THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF 5PAIN
Ruiz. In any case, all of the foregoing suggestions must be raken into account
when one analyzes the use made by Juan Ruiz of naturalist ideas and other
heterodoxies analyzed below.
3. Ruizian Manipulation
The Book o( Good Lave seems to turn to the same strategy of dissimulation
as the Cordoban Virgil. The beginning is entirely orthodox and points toward
rhe best intenrions in rhe world: rhe aurhor prays for rhe help of God and
Virgin; the prologue, supposing it is original and was not added later in the
tradition of Manuscript S, serves ro orient readers toward "good love" in
irs Augustinian sense as caritas or love of God; the author makes clear that
although sorne may want to use his book for sin, his own deep intentions were
to write for the salvation of his readers; the style of captatio benevolentiae is
invoked in what might be rhe first and only authenric prologue of the book,
wherein rhe archpriest places his work under divine auspices (11a-19d);
and finally, we find rhose Virgin"s delights ("gozos"'; 20a-43f). Iris not until
stanza sixty-four that Ruiz's carefully constructed rheroric begins to crumble:
"entiende bien mi libro (o mi dicho) e avrs duea garrida" ("understand my
book correctly and you will ha ve a lovely lady")." What? Was rhe archpriest
not just addressing those who were looking for salvation by avoiding or
learning in the book how ro avoid lovely ladies? Was not the existence of
those who had chosen a foolish love of life upon reading rhe book a sort
of unconrrollable "collateral effecr" of the book's true purpose, which was
precisely to show what "should not" be done? Logically, if that were the
case, then this "collateral" reader could never be the object of the Ruizian
vocative. An author addresses "his" public, not the one he supposedly does
not want. The knowledge in the book, at least in these stanzas, is therefore
aimed at he who wants ro love and be loved, consequently ceasing to be
collateral and undesirable and becoming, decidedly, the "target reader," as
they say in marketing, of the book. In this sense we are presented wirh a
''dezir encobierto e doeguil" ("elegant and cryptic language"; 65), a concept
that, following Lawrance, we can understand as "pertaining to noble ladies"
(Lawrance, "Dueas" 121) and that we could even gloss as "a saying about
noble ladies." In other words, Ruiz is relling us that the book is norhing more
than a subtle ars amandi-something that Lecoy already affirmed many years
agol
6
-and that the tone ofthe verse "entiende[ ... ] e avrs duea garrida" is
15. The English translations of quores from The Book o( Good to1e are from
Elizabcth Drayson Macdonald's translation (London: Orion Puhlishing Group, 1 qqq).
16. "Le Libro de buen amor n'est en derniere analyse qu'un art d'amour . o n u sur un
plan trs libre[ .. .["" (289).
CARLOS HEUSCH
. . . f his sort
0
text and reminiscent of the most ambiguous tracts
characrenstlc
0
t tthat" "t non fallaras uno de trobadores m'li
j
. r and the best ones, a . " ) Th f 11 . 1
<e tOI u. li d 1' one in a thousand poets ; 65 . e o owmg stanza
("vou wtll soon n m 1 . 1 11 d" d 1 " s
. . . to resent this knowledge now p a m y ca e goo . ove, completely
lon_ tmue. P h . t inverting the sense of the expresston as u sed in th
bandonmg or, etter , b' e
a h b. :t of"\asdel buen amor son razones encu tertas" ("the
prologue. T e am tgut y . h 1 h' k
words of good \ove are secret words"; IS not t ere, t m 'to suggest
bl to the "good \ove" or carJtas of the prologue, but rather to
a poss1 e return .
warn the reader who wants to follow the good \ove of those lovely ladtes who
are difficult and complicated to pursue. A good example of thts ts the repeared
failure of the poetic "!": elegant "good \ove" is one of !nvolvingad
augusta per angusta.\t is the reader who must work to find tts sena les ctertas"
("c\ear signs"). The book is not loving per se, in that it does not "give" lave.
The book is no more than an instrument for loving, in the hands of the reader.
Juan Ruiz gets a lot of mileage out of this metaphor: if the reader knows how
to annotate ("puntar" in Juan Ruiz's language) the instrument-book (that is
to say, if he knows how to "perform" it), he will \ove and be loved and will
always remember the book-"sienpre me avrs en miente" ("1 shall stay in
your mind"; 70). On the other hand, if he does not know how to play it, the
instrument-book wi\1 produce only cacophony no matter how good it is (and
even 1f 1t ts the best). Everything is in the reader's hands then he must travel
along a difficult path. But what is not in doubt at thi,' poin; in the book is
that tt ts the path that can lead to the "lovely lady." The long preamble, then,
has as fundamental to point the book toward its true meaning
after the mtroductory famt stgns and (just'fi d). d f Th
autobiographica\ fiction b .
1
e mtro uctory subter uges. e
. . cannow egm,butwh . f d 1 f .
rhar lt w\1 be done with a true dedar . a_t un amenta or us !S
naruralism. atton of prmctples: those of amatory
This is how we arrive at rhe famous sta .
of The Book o{ Good Love. 111 Here J seventy-one to seventy-stx
naruralism-as we ha ve seen, since it uanbR
1
_utz uses a potentially Hispanic
1 h sem es the C d b 1
to ustJ y, 1n genera, t e 1mpuniry of e \\ or o an Vzrgzl-not on y
a character with his own archpriestly ove but also to justify himself as
1 1 lnous desire:
Como dize Aristtiles, cosa es verdade
el mundo por dos cosas trabaja : la
por a ver la otra cosa :ramera,
por a ver untamiento con fenbra p\aJ.cntera.
17. vcro.e remmds one of a cenam nf aiflr
in rhe Sper.ulum al {oder, for example: "'haz
C!> muy hu.eno," "trnate e\totro y tendr.,

thc rhcronr.: of rhat 1mpcrnncnt <>pam mai\ we a\1
1 H. In rh1s '>Cctum 1 rt'Vl'>it analy.,eo; that 1 puhli<;hed
IS constantly repeated
, an sn esto que
\( Wc\1 t d 1t
1
S almost like
'"fl,lr
nnta1
jUAN Rmz ANO THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
Si lo dixies de mo, sera de culpar;
dzelo grand filsofo, non s yo de rebtar:
de lo que dize el sabio non devemos dudbar,
ca por obra se prueva el sabio e su fablar.
Que diz verdat el sabio claramente se prueva:
omnes, aves, animalias, toda bestia de cueva
quieren segund natura conpaa sienpre nueva,
e quanto ms el omne que toda cosa que s' mueva.
Digo muy ms el omne que toda creatura:
todas a tienpo se juntan con natura;
el omne de mal seso todo tienpo, sin mesura,
cada que puede, quiere fazer esta locura.
El fuego sienpre quiere estar en la
comoquier que ms arde quanto ms se atiza;
el omne quando peca bien vee que desliza,
mas non se parte ende ca natura lo enriza.
E yo, como s omne como otro, pecador,
ove de las mugeres a las vezes grand amor;
provar omne las cosas non es por end' peor,
e saber bien e mal, e usar lo mejor.
As Aristotle says, and this is true,
the whole world strives for two things in life,
firstly, to ha ve enough to eat, and the other thing
is to mate with an attractive female.
If this were my idea alone, 1 might be blamed,
but these are the words of a great philosopher,
so don't chastise me; we should not doubt the words of a sage,
since facts back up the wise man and his words.
lt is quite clear to see thar he spoke rhe rrurh:
men, birds, animals, all wild beasts in cave and burrow
constantly seek out new companions,
and man more than any living rhing.
1 insist man above all creatures-;.111 orhers 1
by instinct in thc right stason.
misguided man does it unrestraintdly, all time ..
whenever he is willing anJ <lhlt ro indulgt' 111 this tolly.
33
CARLOS HEUSC
. 1 s to be among rhe ashes,
Fire always ong fi . 1 rhe more ir is poked.
. r hurns more en:e y .
smce ' . . he well knows he is slippmg, .
when man sms . , b cause Narure impels hlm.
but does not rurn aw.t}, e
And 1, being man and sinner, like any other,
have at times been greatly in love WJth
. . not always wrong ro rry out everythmg
11 15
d d bad rhen make use of the best. (71-76)
and learn goo an , '
. 1 J R
1101
quoting a specific Aristotelian text; rather, he
ObvJous y, uan UIZ IS . . b . . . . J
is referencing precisely rhose naturahsr 1deas we have ee_n eas
1 th se found in the Roman de la Rose, to those of th< ciltterent
very sJml ar to o . . .
heterodox seeds that sprouted here and there after the condemn.ltlon ot 1277,
and ro rhose found in Matfre Ermengau's Brel'iari d'amor. ThJS JS why attempts
by crirics ro find a specific Aristotelian referent ha ve ended 111 tadurc. The
indirect sources-or rather, the Aristotelian text vaguely remembereJ hy Juan
Ruiz-would essentially be, as Francisco Rico has pointed out, a texr from De
anima (specifically 11, lll, 414a29-31) in which Aristorle establishe- a parallel
between the sea/a naturae and differenr souls. The soul's LKtdties are nutritive,
perceptive, desiderative, locomotive, and intellective. The first eme, rhat \\'hich
unites aH living things without exception, is conservation. Now, conservation
is double, as was already observed by the scholastic commentators of Aristotle
beginning with Albert the Great, whose affirmations were taken up by El
Tostado in his Breuiloquio. This double conservation, that is, the conserv<.ltion
of the individual through feeding and the conservation of the species
through generation-the "carnal ayuntamiento," according to El Tostado's
expresswn-JS not so far from what we ha ve already seen in the Cordohan
lwhose author, as we have said, possibly read Aquinas) "conjunctio
mulieris et viri." Thus, Juan Ruiz tells us thatthe world works two lines.
Those two activities of the whole world-that 11 1 b Id
ha t b f ll . JS, a 1vmg emgs-wou
vhe ho e,
1
w
1
e
0
ow Anstotle, those of the nutritive anima. But Juan Ruiz
wa lS rexrua mampulations n . h h ,
h h . 'Wl SWJtc t e cards on us. On the one hand
t e are pnesr uses the expression " . " ,
an expression thar d f d" mamtenance to refer to the first activity,
think that Juan Ruiz ee .. mg but connotes generation. We could then
duality of the princip, mamtenance," is attempting to allude to the
conserva non ,, Mai t " Id b f
synonym for conservation th h . n enance wou e a per ect
other hand, when he oug a double-faceted "conservation." On the
the second activity-"la ot
5
to remember, with that curious imperfect tense,
ro complerely confuse us era'.' ("the other thing was")-he is able
w'th 1 . f untamiento con f b 1 .
1
a P easmg emale" 71d) If h . em ra p azentera" ("umon
of Saint Thomas and th; C j b t e word untamiento recalls the con;unctio
or
0
an andEl Tostado's ayuntamiento, it is
in the expression of "femhra plazentera" that Ruiz unleashes his full semantic
deverness and,_ ohviously, his true "heterodoxy." If we did not suppose him
to luve any tw1sted purpose we could think that this was simply a matter of
delit, that pleasure about which Reason speaks in The Romance of the Rose
and whichEI !ostado wiUiater call "aguijn de delectacin" ("needle prick
ot delectat1on ; Brevtloquw de amor e ami(i(ia, f. 17r, Heusch 1993, 774).
Bes11..ies, tl11s 1dea of pleasure associated with generation in arder to better fulfill
the bttcr, an idea retrieved from Plato and Aristotle, is found, in sorne form,
in all medieval European authors, who insist that, from that point of view,
there is no difference at all between man and perceiving animals (Jacquart
.md Thomasset 1 1 1 ). lf that were the interpretarion ro be reached vis--vis
Juan Ruiz's vtrsc, it would ha veto be worded, independently of any metric
consideration, as "juntamiento plazentero con fenbra" ("pleasant un ion with a
fcmale" ), sin ce this concept of pleasure applies only to the sensitive areas of the
genital organs, as Galeno points out (Jacquart and Thomasset 111 ). An animal's
de/it, scnsory as it is, can only be erogenous. And this small precision, trivial
as it may secm, is central to our interpretation of the supposedly "heterodox"
stanzas of .Ju<Jn Ruiz. To my understanding, "por a ver juntamiento con fenbra
plazemera" ("to unite with a pleasant female") is the most important verse,
much more I dare say than "por aver mantenencia" ("to have maintenance").
This is beca use, from the moment that the "pleasantness" is in the "female," as
Juan Ruiz says, and not in rhe "union," the true heterodoxy does not consist
of a jump from a nutritive toa perceptive anima, but rarher a much greater
distance: one that reaches orher souls.
There is no doubt here that pleasure is related ro the erogenous pleasure
of the act. Bur there is more to consider. In these verses, enjoymenr results
from the man 's consciousness of the pleasure rhe woman experiences. In orher
words, pleasure becomes aesthetic. Juan Ruiz refers therefore to a superior
leve! of sensibility, stating that in this "juntamiento con fenbra plazenrera"
al! of the soul's abilities come into play: nutritive, perceptive, desiderative,
locomotive, and even intellective in its ;udicativa dimension.lt is important to
note rhat Juan Ruiz goes even further than Francisco Rico had thought. For
Rico, we go up just one leve! on the scale of being with ''fenbra plazentera,"
arriving only at the anima sensitiva, the one that man shares with perfecr
animals; for Ruiz, on the other hand, nutritive concerns all the beings of rhe
world. In other words, what Rico makes clear with respect ro the perceptive
soul
19
sends us directly to rhe delit, the "aguijn de delectacin" ("needle
19. "El alma sensitiva retiene-por supuesto-el afn de conserYacin del alma \"eg-
etativa y discierne las operaciones ad hoc como causa mayor del placer que a ella if" es
propio. La potencia reproductora del alma vegetaciva, al ascender
sensitiva. va dotada de la sensacin (cuando menos) del tacco, de la d1scnmmac10n dd
CARLOS HEUSCH
16
- _ h ading of verse d of stanza seventy-one
. . ")thatrs,totere - - .
prick ot delectatlon ,
1 09
_
111
. Such a readmg rmrrs, m sorne way,
as a "juntamiento plazentero _l
1
- n
0
not only Arisroteliamsm but also
R 's mampu auo
rhe extent of Juan urz thors in the late Middle Ages, all uf these
. . neral For most au b'
naturahsm m ge _ b Aristotelianism, which are a rt comp rcated,
psYchologrcal rrarts d d b y d . d
10
three-nutritive, percepnve, and
h h han e re uce
can on t e ot er h . . tng of the then-new medical-psychological
. h ks ro r e unprm 1 .
reasonmg-t anf G 1 IAmasuno 254).1"Criadera, senndor, razonable,"
model mhentehd Wrom l.>enys says ) Of these three souls, only the third, gifted
as Alphonse t e !Se a wa . . . . d . h h . d. .
. b1 d the virtus aestlmatwa combme wrt t e u zcatwe,
w1th rhe a 11ty to JU ge-- . . d n d h
which belongs
10
understanding, and whrch, IS suppose , Wl JU ge t e
b
. ,. t'ron and imagination lphantasza)-rs capable of cons1denng
0 1ects o percep d b
a fenbra" as "plazentera." Meanwhile, the second soul suggeste,. y Rrco-
the perceptive one--could only find pleasure in the "tuntamrento rtself. Juan
Ruiz's "pro domo with malice" points of vrew, as expressed by Rrco _1175),
are then exrremely twisted from the beginning of the fragment. Pervertmg the
naturalist arguments,juan Ruiz pretends to hide man's libidinous impulses-
those which are possible because he has the most complete soul, the one
able ro judge an aesthetic object-by associating them with the impunity of
"natural" acts belonging ro the other souls, the perceptive and nurritive ones.
These arguments might appear baseless at first, but, as we will see, Juan Ruiz
keeps up the same manipularan in the following verses. The shrewd step from
nature lo human becomes much more explicit in the following stanzas. With
"omnes, aves, animalias, toda bestia de cueva" ("men birds animals all wild
beasrs mcave and burrow"; 73b), we have definitely left nutri,tive and
are now m the second category of perceptive and locomotive living things:
"roda cosa que's mueva" l"all things that move"; 73d). Again it is nature that
all these creatures to constantly repeat the natural act conservation:
qureren segund natura" l"naturally want" 74) R h
r d ; . mz s semanuc e mees
s an. out once more wirh the employment of "conpaa" ( "companion")
a quue anrhropomorphic re d h '
rm an t us a new pro domo blow by Ruizian
placer y del movi ienro al del a eti .
la proporcionada por los Para cualqUier letrado de la poca, con
m1ento' y el adjetivo 'plazentera' ha'itahan versos de_ la copla, el substantivo 'junta-
("The perccptive retains sugenr los_ rasgos peculiares del alma
.t.nd ad hfJc npcrationc h the dcs1re to preserve the nutriti:e
1 ht rtproductlvc potcntial of thc nutritiVC 'il: l the pleasure that belong to t.

wnh thc \Cn\ation ( t

1
lt a'iccnd!) _rhe stcps to the pcrceptive
a
1
nJ of movcmcnt rhar \crvc., appc:n
0
touch, of the Jdentiflc.uion of pleasure,
ul e provldcd m thc prcv1ou., Vl'f\C\ any cducatcJ person of the time, with the
P wcrc cnough to th l e stan1.a, the noun 'union' 1nd the aJjective
. e particular traits of the percepti,ve sc>UI';: 1 74.)
JUAN RUIZ AND THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
37
rhetoric (73c).' "Conpaa" furtively connotes here the practices of man,
made expltctt m the next verse: u e quanto ms el omne que roda cosa que's
mueva: ("and man more than any living thing"; 73d). Clearly, the author is
squeezmg out all the conceptual advantages he can from the expression and
ambiguities of '_'fenbra plazentera." In other words, the libidinous impulse
m man ts supenor, but m relation to what other living thing? In relation ro
"toda cosa que's mueva," in other words, animals that are only "perceptive
locomotive." And by virtue of what? Well, of the purely human soul, the
only one that can recognize the "fenbra plazentera." Therefore, Ruiz will
keep constantly clarifying the fundamental differences between the loving
behavior of creatures that are "simply perceptive" and man, as can be seen in
the subsequent verses. Stanza seventy-four continues to establish differences.
Animals, perceptive locomotive creatures, have carnal union only at times
dictated by nature, in almost involuntary fashion, without "seso" ("brain"),
as if "mudos" ("mute"), as Reason would say in the Romance when it speaks
of "bestes mues" (Guillaume and Jean, v. 6975, 210), or with "mouimiento
;iego," according to El Tostado (f. 17v, 773). By contrast, it is precisely beca use
of his "brain," that is, beca use of his properly human soul, that man constantly
seeks this union. Aristotle, Pliny, and medieval physiologists had already
pointed out this difference from a physiological and medica) point of view.
Unlike animals, manis semper paratum ad coitum, if we may apply this brave
little phrase tomen that Juvenal applied to women. For a slightly more serious
reference, let us quote Pliny: "ceteris animantibus statum er pariendi er partus
gerendi tempus: horno toto anno et incerto gignitur spatio" (lawrance, "The
Audience" 235). Ruiz uses this scientific reference to transmit his message
with greater liberty.
Let us look more dosel y at stanza seventyfour. lt talks of the human soul"s
"seso," but ir refers toa "mal seso" ("bad brain" or "misguidedness") as it
also says that it is "locura" (''crazy") ro look for constant carnal union. Rico
considers this a return to the ''orthodox" discourse of the work's prologue,
with its opposition between "good" and ''crazy" love. Rico next quores che parr
of the prologue where the archpriest justifies the sins of men with the flaqueza
de la natura humana" ("weakness of human narure"), a commonpbce uf rhe
didactic genre. He then associates this "weakness" wirh rhe ... misguidednt.ss"
and the "craziness" that appear in our stanzas (Rico 1781. All this is plJusil>le.
Stanza seventy-five tends ro indicare this as well when ir speaks of rhe m.m whn
sins. However, l think that thc appearance of rhe idea of sin .md ..
is part of the game of amhiguities and Jissimularions of whidt our
is so fond. Let us not forget rhroughout rhis whole sc:Xtion .rhat Rull 1s usmg
academic arguments and rcfac1h.:c .. t.onsldcr.HltHlS .trt' h.tst.-..t on
physiological and mediGtl facrs. Who is tlw sorr o_f nun who, 111 !l.t,lnl.t
four. viclds constantlv ro nntrt;tl plt..lsurt.s? lt 1s tht "homhn dt m.1l sc!l.o.
CARLOS HEUSCH
18
. . _ d. to amatory physiology, the perception of a
h
" Now accor mg h , " 1 t " " 'd '
the "foolis one. b t'fullady w 0 15 p azen era or garn a,
b
. t such as a ea u ' , h h . .
verv pleasing o J<c . d onstant desire m t e e aractenstrcally
. - d hement an c h . h' h
P
roduces a hx_e ve d : ry Beca use roan always as m rs ead, in
h
. lea to msam f .
human soul t at can h'
1
rabie object, he ceaselessly yearns or cortus.
his "seso," the rdea of
1 15
P easu rically a clich of medica! and paramedical
.. . h as thiS are prac Th 1
Athrmarwns suc f he cultural context of these verses. ey exp a in,
litera tu re, an mherent partko t d ess
0
the Cardaban Virgil on the tapie of
. re the aw war n
m great ' h h "mal seso., the "locura" of man, who always
h
. Th1s means t at t e '
e asnty. . . . ha pleasing female, is what produces the constant
, nrs to ach,eve umon Wlt 'd .
"a . h ne in Juan Ruiz's cultural context, 1 entt es wtth
violent desJre t at everyo ' . . d h
1 B 11 Co
unts rhis is the aegrttudo amorts. An so we ave a
patho ogy. y a ac . . . b
b
.
1
wn tail in contrast ro the ammals, tt IS ecause man wants
serpent 1tmg 1 s o "
10
have union with a pleasant female" that he always wants to fazer esta
locura." Behind Juan Ruiz is a rich scholastic background, as tllustrated by
Albert the Great in his "naturalist" vulgata dissemmated even outSide the
university. This background allows us to see in the libidinous foolishness of
man the disturbance of the soul's abilities mentioned by physiologists and
cerrainly known by Juan Ruiz. That "foolishness," precise! y the desire to ha ve
constan! union with a pleasing female, must be another instance of amor
hereos or "foolish !ove," the greatest state of !ove according ro El Tostado,
which is obviously exclusively human since it is the one that moves by "vista
o ymagina,in de figura muy ex<;ellente" (f. 17v, 773). Marcelino Amasuno
has dedicated a very erudite recen! article to the issue of !ove sickness in Juan
Ruiz's poem, but,curiously, he analyzes only the prologue, where the theme of
"foolish !ove" appears. The appearance of this theme in the prologue allows
us to conSider the hypothesis that there is an allusion ro amor hereos more
to orthodoxy. In stanzas ro seventy-six, even more so than
10
the prologue, the medicalnaturalist intellectual scaffolding alluded to by
Amas uno appears wnh great clarity.
In addttJon this impression of d' 1 1' . ,
. .
1
' a me tea -natura 1st mtellectual scaffoldmg
JS rem orced by the closing h .
h
.
0
t e sect1on at hand. The intentions of the
are pnesr are made clear
0
st .
as a character th
1
.
1
anza sevenry-Six. He tries to describe himself
a JS m ove that sub 1 b .
himself. His cleverness 'd '. . mns
10
ove, ut also seeks to usttfy
res esmusmgam Id' .
reference to in the pral d ora IScourse-the one Rtco makes
. re. But the second versoegue-to celare himself a simple sinner, as all men
separares us from th 1 d .
m order to describe for us " " l e morta an common smner
grand amor" (76b)-'" With over: "ove de las mugeres a las vezes
15
expresSion he outlines precise! y the sort of
20 .. C_)ne must ohvHJWaly take ex .
gemtJve, m other '\omet' as a subjective genitive notan objective
' me, eeply (greatly) loved rather than "l
JuAN RUIZ ANO THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
39
will be seen during the work, one who 5 "lave crazy," one who
is determined for by the stars and planets, and moreover,
one who !oves foohshly m accord woth the "Venusian" birth of the poetic "1":
Muchos nas;en en Venus, que lo ms de su vida
es amar las mugeres, nunca se les olvida
trabajan e afanan [muy) mucho, sin medida,
e los ms non recabdan la cosa ms querida.
En este signo ata! creo que yo nas<; ( ... ].
Many are born under the sign of Venus and most of their lives
are spent loving women, it is constantly in mind.
They work and strive without restraint,
And the majority do not obtain what they most desire.
1 believe 1 was born under this sign [ ... ]. (152-53)
Despite the fact that sorne critics ha ve tried to make the affirmation of astral
influence appear less heterodox (Joset 61 ), and without relying excessively
on this aspect in order to demonstrate highly heterodox "mudejar" Semitism
in Juan Ruiz (Lpez Baralt), in the end it is plain that the ideas expressed
in stanzas seventy-one to seventy-six should lead to the affirmation of
astrological determinism that culminares in stanzas 152 and 153. This is
not just because the same "1" is being drawn-the one who, according to
stanza seventy-six, felt "great !ove" for women and was born under the sign
of Venus-but also because the intellectual stance that defends the idea of
naturalism is systematically the same one that defends determinism. Moreover,
the fact that Juan Ruiz immediately follows this with an attempt ro make
astrology compatible with Christian theology by defending free will and divine
providence, as had been attempted to sorne degree by Saint Thomas himself, is
notan obstacle ro considering that the astrological reference is there to round
out the imprint on Juan Ruiz of the radical naturalism of certain "parallel"
schools, even if only those of Toledo at the end of the thirteenth century and
the beginning of the fourteenth. Even the Cardaban Virgi/, a work that is
everything but orthodox, claims to defend free will and providence.
Frequently, Juan Ruiz pleases himself: the astrological determinism he
knows perfectly well from the same channels that provided him information
about Aristotelian naturalism comes in handy in e\'aluating the initial portrait
of the protagonistas a "great lover," as "sick" and e\'en "foolish" wirh
This is the same type of man that the other famous archpriest, the Ar.:hpnest
ha ve been grearly loved hy women." The .wtohiow.lrhil'.ll will slww us rhc.
lack of sense rhe verse would otherwise luvc if ir were an
CARLOS HEUSCH
40
t
ry later in the third part of his Corbacho
mmends a cen u . 11 d .
0
Tala vera, reco . b loved: a man who ts tota y etermmed to
wantmg ro e . b
ro rhose women , he point that he goes msane ecause of them
find Iadies' plazenteras to t
. d Toledo 214-216). b
Martmez e
1
the inversion can then e even more complete
W
. h ct to the pro ogue, f h
1t respe . f the story becomes the same sort o e aracter
. h protagomst o
Sine< t < very
1
s a reader who is unintended, a collateral effect. In
described in the ogu::uralist and empiricist "1" ("probar omne las cosas";
the story the VenusJan, n Th. 1 1 .
' h. 1 path secular and foolish !ove. IS a so exp ams why
76c) chooses as IS so e
b h k Of O
rthodoxy-like the ones that follow the stanzas about
the rus stro es
astrology-are strategically so importan!. .
In sum, the naturalism of the sea/a naturae found m stanzas seventy-one
10
sevenry-six is rhe best way for Juan Ruiz to define the perfect lover. What
would be the value of "good !ove" in its profane sense tf tt were common to
all men, and evento all animals? "Good !ove" runs parallel here to "great
love"; it is an extreme force that makes authentic lovers of men, as El Tostado
will insist when he identifies amor hereos as the greatest and most perfect
degree of love. The adventures of the archpriest-character constitute an
attempt to show the highest degree of love, and not the animal sort of !ove
that occurs without too much thought-like the "asses in the meadow," as
Celestina would say.
Ar the same time, the ideas related to amatory naturalism allow the "]"a
total moral blamelessness. Thanks to astrological determinism and empiricism
lto wh!Ch Juan RuJZ alludes, as we saw, manipulating a reference to Saint Paul
:'!h tries things"),Juan Ruiz is able ro make this "sinner" who is the
1 not conSidered as such, or have him be considered a sinner just like any
other man ("'como s omne e d , . .
be . . omo otro, peca or )-a sort of a sm so dtffuse
aAs to come tnvlal. Here, as in the most radical Aristotelian texts directly
verro!!f;t or not the auth k '
from fauh free 'r .
0
1
r _see
5
ro pamt "the world's foolish lo ve" as free
' <>m "n. t IS the lo f f 1
free !ove " an expre . h ve
0
ree peop e, a phrasing 1 prefer to
' \\Ion per aps e 1
love by Par f .xcessiVe Y used and anachronistic; the
" . \lans or not be . f 1 .
formcar
10
utp
1 1
. mg sm u and condemned by Temp1er:
l 12 - . o e so u u cum 1
J. lh,, vi\1on of \ove ma k di d'. so uta, non est peccatum" (Piche,
amJthry model thar prevail rde y hlstances Juan Ruiz's ideas from the great
!!m 1 e on t e othe .d f h
r: wurt y \ove. We could ima . r SI e o t e Pyrenees during that
Hri(,Jt (! Cr,od l.ove" to"i that one of the raisons d'etre of The
(Jtl hour lovr, that" (i .mporr
101
Castile French ideas (from Oc and
hy fu.tn R ' " ""'"" And that h
1
, .
1111
' P<""hle wurrly puhl. U h " pro ahly what was expected
/ r;.uy l(rnercued hy

.' t ere was one) in the rich context of

,,, lll,m Pnnlll(u d t coun of 1 . d
1
l.l 1:'\e rno r\, of M . .ronor e Guzmn against the
ll.lfl "u'' trr, nor h d an, ot (,ortu . l' . .
, '"'PPnmt a.nd
1
g.\ ' court. AnJ, m some way,
dlh Jke that "'i\:holar" so rcmi iscent of
jUAN RUIZ AND THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN 41
Ruiz who authored Razn de amor, bringing ro Castile the "courtliness" that
was current in European courts.
21
But le naturel revient au galop, and it was
never better said: the "courtly" !ove ol the archpriest's book opens and ends
with the "castigos" ol Amor and Lady Venus; the two are like Ruiz's French
"neighbors," as they practically speak like the characters ol Pitas Payas's
exemplum. Very soon, Juan Ruiz returns ro his subject, which is not counly
!ove but natural !ove, the only kind not guilty in the end, as has been shown
above. And so the "[" does not lollow the courtliness ola different character
ol The Book of Good Lave, Don Amor-a courtliness that in the end does not
serve him, as he himself says in stanzas 576-77-but rather the amatory model
ol the schools ol Aristotelianism or the Cardaban Virgi/, certainly heterodox
but with a lundamentallimit. This representation ol love, lrom the beginning
ol naturalist ideas and up to the fifteenth centuty in El Tostado, and even with
la ter treatises such as Tratado de cmo al hombre es necesario amar, advocates
conjugallove, the !ove ol "enlightened" persons.ln this realm, seduction leads
toward a sexual act that is nothing but the preamble, and like a metaphor,
for marriage (which it will continue to be in every case, including Cervantes's
Novelas e;emplares). This is what we find when Ruiz novelizes the elegiac
comed y Pamphilus within The Book of Good Lave, making the imponance of
conjugallove even more palatable;
22
this is what we find in Aristotelian texts,
even heterodox ones; and above all, as we have seen, this is what we find in
the Cardaban Virgil. Moreover, we must note that the adventures ol the "["
are the alfirmation ol the necessaty relationship between !ove anda "natural"
marriage: ultimately, what the "[" wants is to marry. In the end, such is the
last argument of another Ruizian character.. Trotaconventos; in facr, it is her
simplest, the one that finally convinces Endrina: "pues que el amor lo
por qu non vos juntarles?" ("since lave desires it, why not be unitrd?"':
843d). Alter all, "soluti cum soluta, non est peccatum." The signs ol courtly
relations at the beginning (that involve a secret and vanish as soon as somrone
talks) cannot but lail. True !ove is lound in matrimony, whether official or not
(which is why we inhabit the world of naturalism), in a communion that .. m
become a union ol souls alter it has been physical, as is symbolicallv
in the amatory episode involving yet another character. Doa Gan)\.a. thc:
21 ... Un la rim qut' sJt.'lllprt dut"a5. .uno; 1 lllJ!l- Mt"mprC" .. :n.m-.1 c:-n
Altntania y tn Fran.t,/ mor enl omh.trLti.t/ por.l.lJ'fC'Jh.tl'r nntt'SJ,, .. t
22. In this ont" must nntt' onc ol tht k" mtnxlu..::t"'li "' .lu.m RUir m
the- of ,,:omtdy th.u ht 1s tht llJJ.Jdt"n (;.l!Jfc'.l turm lllh' rh<'
younp. widnw, Endnn.t. In tht" cnd, tht nt '"m \\.l\ tnnrt'
tolt"rahle and, ;U tht" samc ttme, mUl:h trN:"r, 1mKh 11Hlf'C' ,-nlunun, wht--rt"<l" m tht" ,-,.""'
nf thc:- dl!trt.honort"d mJidC'n thl"rt" wa!> nn altrrn.ltl\"l" rh.u WtlulJ C"nJ
tn th(' l"nmrd\ \ \L"ht"me.
CARLOS HEUSCH
42
t of love according to Juan Ruiz, is that
h
dox elemen ' 1 h
e
tainlv the etero h d a
0
French court mess t at was being
nun. er , ' nd to t e ox 1 . b b . h
. does nor really correspo .1 Besides this, it on y sms y emg uman
Jt d . Alphonse Xl's Casn e. '
inculcare m
all 100 human.
4 Conclusion .
. f Ruiz's possible heterodoxies, 1 have left out
In my presentanobnlo Juanbe less significan! clues to heterodox thought
what 1 e J<Ve to d.
on purpose R . ely those that crinCism has tra ItiOnally dealt
. h k of Juan mz, nam . d 1 h
m t e wor . . h M e'ndez Pelayo in his Historta e os eterodoxos
rh begmmng Wlt en d 11
w '.
1
f ng to the presence of supersnnon an spe s m the
espanoles. am re ern h . b h J .
b h
. h we should note detail thoug It may e, t at uan RUiz
poem a out w IC ' ff
them only to the character of the In e ect, only the go-
betweens in The Book o( Good Lave seem to partiCipare m the dar k world
0
magic, superstition, and spells, without the "!" being able to confirm the
efficacy of these practices. His siruation announces the ranonahst skeptiCISm
of fifteenth-century writers like Juan de Mena. A pnme example IS the case
of rhe death of a lady who is "a child of few days": the "!" does not know
exacrly if she has died from a natural death (because it is natural to be born
and to die) or simply because she has been poisoned by the charros of the
gohetween (941a-943d). Evidently, with his allusions to philocaptio and
irs spells and philrers-forbidden in Alphonse X's Siete Partidas precisely
because ir causes more dearh than love-plus sneezes and omens, fairies and
fare, ".entendederas y canraderas moriscas" who cured with spells, and more
IMenendez Pelayo 425), Juan Ruiz paints an easily identifiable tablea u for
the puhhc of hJS nme: an eminently feminine tradition of secreta and vetulas,
Ike the world of rhe famous Trotula of Salero o with one foot in medicine and
one m magJC between pim d 11 .
M. . ' pmg an spe -castmg, whiCh has been traced by
arquez Vllanueva (Orgenes).
In conclusion 1 would ll 1" .
to be explored n The e ro ?ut me sorne deas about heterodoxies yet
ha ve alluded to th h f of Good Lave. Touching on Averroist ideas, 1
echo
10
the en;:
0
mdvdualmesponsibility that seems to find its
rhc imnal mo;al depth of the "l." This "1" acts following
hm-.:11 ahout the moral at excu hpates him to the end, without ever asking
h A """
10
" act" L"k h d
Y vcrro"r autho" rhe "l"
1
ll . Ion. I e t ose characters portraye
1
' o ow'h" i 1 . . .
m mg fatal"m wh . d . nc mauons With determmanon even
h
' en ace With f 1 '
"'not conquered Th f ai ure and the deaths of the women he
o J f e \orto amoral f) d .
Uf\l e() the tllned-dCJwn 1' Ul lty In h1s 3Ctons might surprise US
vu>lenrly to the dearh of th natuhra "m that traverses the work. He does react
ro Kve frr e KO etween hut h bl .
e rem to h" In<hnallon,. pro a y beca use she allows him
JuAN Rmz AND THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
43
Averroist logic develops the idea of double truth, which, when applied
to metaphystcal questtons, allows one to affirm that sorne things are true
accordmg to faith and false according to reason. Ideas that we find, directly
or mdtrectly, m sorne fifteenth-century authors and concrete! y in Juan Manuel
and Juan RUIZ flow from this logic, such as the concept that truth is not
revealed, absolute,. and absolutely unanimous. Truth is many-sided and
fundamentally ambtguous. Many times what appears true can be deceitful
and what is deceitful turns out to be true. Something can be true in
sense and false in another. The logic of Averroist duality is also found in the
Cordoban Virgil and is a good clue for understanding why in a poem such
as Ruiz's the theme of double truth or "verdad engaosa" ("deceitful truth"),
to use Juan Manuel's expression, is so important (see, among many others,
stanzas 635-38, which rehabilitate lying and seem to be a direct reading from
the Cordoban Virgil).
Lastly, perhaps we could examine certain episodes in light of this double
truth and its ambiguities in the service of a heterodox reading of the text.
One could speak of Juan Ruiz's satiric pen as a pen that does not hesitate
to multiply anticlerical allusions (clergy's simony, 492-507; the association
of Don Amor with the clergy in the canonical hours parody) or to criticize,
through Trotaconventos, the rich man who abandons the poor man (819-21).
The possibly political ideas that run through The Book o( Good Love ha ve
not been traced enough. Often, with half-jokes and fables in hand, one can
see a "free thinking" spirit (excuse the anachronism) in clear opposition to
political and, more particularly, monarchical authoritarianism. Surely we
can associate this ideology with the much knocked-about Golliard spirit,
but perhaps it is worth exploring further. The episode of "cmo las ranas
demandavan rey" ("how the frogs asked for a king") seems, through its
defense of liberty, to be an apology for antiauthoritarianism. The frogs are
stubborn since they ha ve not understood that one lives better if freed from
all political authority. The story of the !ion and the horse probably allows for
a political reading, not to mention an obvious moral judgment condemning
gluttony. The !ion dies because he wanted to eat the horse; the horse dies
because he is fat and cannot swim in the river. The !ion demands from the
horse a vassal kiss, but in reality iris a trick: he only wants the horse ro
closer so he can devour him. In the face of this '''"'se of power. Juan Rui1
does not vacillate to give the !ion his due: the horse h;lS the nght to Jdend
himself and tricks the lion when his turn arrives. Ht .tsks the hnn ro remon.
a nail that a blacksmith has nailed to his hoof. The !ion 1110\<'S h1s he;Id doser
and receives a fatal kick. Is this l'X;Implc notan alluswn to the pohn.:.ll d<,:ell
frequently practiced by Alphonsc XI, who would m;Ike his enenne' .lppro;Kh
on a promise of S<tfety th;.\t he ultimately t.uleJ Juan M.umd. who
was dever, was intim;.udy familiar wuh this t.h.:th:, hr dtXhnrd tnr
CARLOS HEUSCH
44 . osed by the monarch. (Let us also
d heorerically safe the !ion.) The fact is that the
10
;:::.: rhat Aiphonse's emblem :as :.sented very negatively in The Book
rle svmbol of kingly authorftty, pntioned example we muse add the one
wn.a . . bl " thea oreme fh' 1 ( h 1
f
G
od LO<'e's ta es.
0
. crificing one o ts vassa s t e wo f)
o o d notwavermsa b h Id,.
f rhe sick lion who oes h . lesson or the one a out t e o ton
0
1 h fax) learn t el! ' d f d h. lf
50
that rhe orhers t e h
1
k the strength to e en tmse against
d because e ac s h h ff d
who commits suiCt e h. for the abuses t ey ave su ere at
1 king revenge on
101
fe 1 " id
all rhe amma s ta . d f the "Lion 0 asn e s o age, a time
D
.d Juan Rmz ream o Th . . .
his hands. '
001
b bl to kick him in the face? e eptmttto of
Id atlast e a e
1
.
when everyone wou d tes for the justice that the young IOn has
the exemplum, m any case, a vaca
nor respected:
El omne que tiene estado, onra e grand poder,
lo que para s no quiere, non lo deve a otros fazer,
que mucho ana se puede todo su poder perder,
e lo qu'l fizo a otros, d'ellos tal puede a ver.
A man who has status, honor, great power,
should not do to others what he would not wish for himself;
he may very quickly lose all bis power,
and get bis just deserts, as he dished out to others. (316)
Something similar occurs in the example of the !ion and the ass, where the
former cruelly slits open the latter. Again, the symbolic incarnation of regal
power is a tyrant who is not only intolerant but also deceitful, a king who
with "false flattery" orders one of bis subjects caught (899a). From the horse
to the ass les the distance in ingenuiry that makes it possible for the former to
trick the lion, while the latter is betrayed and devoured. This is beca use the ass
"non sabi la manera el burro del seor" ("did not know the ways of his lord,
the lion"; H99c). And Juan Ruiz cannot but be ironic about che assurance of
<afery given to the poor ass: "abri! por los costados: 1 de la su son
todm espantados" l"tore open his flanks: 1 they were al! horrified at the lion's
a"urance of <afetv" 900 d) A d .
h h k
. . ' e- conSI eratton of sorne of the many fa bies
a out t e mg-hon\ fals f f
th
. h d f e assurances o sa ety wnhin the historical context o
e ar e\t years o Alphons XI'. . .
11 h e
5
retgn would be mstructive
m a y, t e cpiSode of The Bor k f C d . .
rcad it in the contoxt f h Al
0
. '
00
Love that imitates the epic, tf we
where pcrhao
1
h e Pd onsme wars, produces interesting levels of
P' etcro oxy or at 1 . . . b 1
puchcd hetwecn Caro l de cast Irony, mtght h1de. The att e
, a an .uare'ima h
eme that '"more or le\!. '"local.. . sets two ands against each other-
whiie the othrr, more , r 1 f composed of the best of Castilian livestock,
1
css orcJgn, from somcwhere ovcrseas. As
JuAN RUIZ AND THE HETERODOX NATURALISM OF SPAIN
45
we know, Alphonse XI the epic, writing of his feats against the
Bemmennes m h1s _Gran cronrca and, especially, in the Poema de Alfonso
onceno. The opposltlon between Christian Castilians and Moorish infidels
became a structural element that contemporaries would have listened ro
frequently. From this, one can suppose that a reader of that time would have
been especial! y sensitive to the meaning that a martial confrontation of this
sort would ha ve had, even if parodie. But if we add to this the fact that the
strong wild boar asks to enter into combar quickly since "ya muchas vegadas
lidi[] con don Al" ("for [he has] fought many times with Mr. Moot"; 1088c)
besides, he has fought against an army which is structured by its opposition
ro mear and, concretely, bacon, then the text seems ro suggest that Don
Carnal's army can be associated with the Castilians, and Cuaresma's with the
Benimerines. This would be no more than anecdotal were it not for the fact
that it allows an anti-Christian satire that, again, somehow fuels the nearly
quelled fire of Juan Ruiz's mudejarism. In fact, in the first part of the banle,
Carnal's armies seem ro be given over to every vice. The rich emperor has a
luxurious court with minstrels, parties, and pleasures of all types. Compared
ro him, Cuaresma and her armies represent a model of virtue and de\'otion
1
of saintly and healthy abstinence through fasting, logically alluding also ro
Ramadan. It would be heterodox, indeed, therefore, to suggest that the very
Catholic Lent is, in fact, an Islamic Ramadan and that the Benimerine armies
are a model of discipline and military art, while Alfonse XI's Crusaders are
victims of all manner of vices and therefore easily conquered by the "mesnada
del mar" ("marine troops"; 1124a). In the end, it matters little that after
the first victory of Lent-Ramadan, Carnai-Aiphonse escapes and returns to
power in Castile. The story could ha ve no other ending. What is interesting
to me, on the other hand, is that Carnal's triumph is, in the end, so shorr
and unrenowned. In fact, what inrerests Juan Ruiz is nor painting Carn.tl's
triumph, which has few stanzas dedicated to it, but rather the reappearan<-e
of another structuring character in the work: Don Amor. Note hnw minurely
and shrewdly narrative interest slides toward the figure of Don Amor, eclipsm:
Carnal complete! y. There is only one triumph-Don Amor's-anJ ir Jo.,s not
precisely correspond to the previous hatrle between Carnal anJ Lent. AnJ 111
terms of the .. 1," we also see how little imera..-rion rhen is hc:-twt't'n lum .md
Carnal. The ul" really wants ro be, and is, with Amor. Pt'rh.tps tht"sl" .u.e o.llly
hrush strokes, hut in rhe end Juan Ruiz. leads us to thLm c-.h.:h time hl" 111\ lh'S
us to examine his work for his most hidden purposcs.
C<RLOS HEUSCH
Works Cited
. ,
1
saber mdico tras el prlogo del Libro de buen
Amasuno Marcelmo. E h eos "' B Morros and F. Toro Ceballos
amo,r: 'loco amor' y 'amor er . . .
247-70. Prinr.. B . and Pierre Guichard, eds. Averroes et
A
d N!Cole enou,
1
n n
Bazzana, n re, . . . . h storique du haut Atas a ams et a radoue.
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L
. PUL 2005. Prior. h d 1 A d
l on. ' . uridico-judJCiatre almo a e en a - n alus et
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Mustafa Le systeme h' d 1 h'
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Castro, Amrico. Espaa en _su historia, crtsttanos, moros y u ws. uenos
Aires: Losada, 1948. Pnnt. ,
Ctedra, Pedro. Del Tostado sobre el amor. Bellaterra: Stelle dell Orsa, 1986.
Prior. d d ' .. 1 " R d
Fatio, A. More!, ed. "Textes castillans in its u XIII stec e. azon e amor.
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Guichard, Pierre, and jean-Pierre Molenat. "Dans al-Andalus, les ulmas face
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Guillaume de Lorris et jean de Meung. Roman de la Rose. Ed. D. Poirion.
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a l'Speculum al foder." Revue d'tudes catalanes 2 ( 1999): 97-112. Print.
--."Entre didacricismo y heterodoxia. Vicisitudes del estudio de la tica
aristotlica en la Espaa escolstica." La Cornica 19.2 (1990-1991):
89-99. Prinr.
--. La Philosophie de I'Amour dans I'Espagne du xv' siecle. Paris:
de la Sorbonne nouvelle (thse dactylographie), 1993.
--. aver umam1ento con fenbra plazentera': el astuto naturalismo
ama tono de Juan Ruiz." El libro de buen amor de Juan Ruiz Arcbiprtre
de Hita. Paris: Ellipses, 2005. 129-42. Print '
jacquart, and Claude Thomasset. et savoir mdica/ au
muyen age. Paris: PUF, 1985. Prior.
l.ibro de buen amor. Madrid: Taurus, 1990.
, , Nuevas investigaciones sobre el "L 'b d b "
Catedra, 1988. Print.
1
ro e uen amor. Madrid:
Lawrancc, .leremy. "The Audience of h .
l.tterature J6.l (Summer
1904
t e l.tbro de buen amor." Comparative
-- '"() - _
0
). 220-:l7. Prmr
. . uena"i 'icnora"i, consentid e 1 .
mu)ere.-. y el humor en .h d ntre os una tal bavoqua': las
d 1 e .t ro e buen a " E/ 1 .b
e uan Ru,z, Archiprtre de ll' _mor. .1 ro de buen amur
200.1. 111-28. Prinr. tia. F.d. Carlos Heusch. Paris: Ellipses,
JUAN RUIZ ANO THE HETERODOX NATURAL!SM OF SPAIN
47
Lecoy, Flix. Recherches sur le Libro de buen amor de Juan Ruiz. 1938.
Farnborough, England: Gregg Press lnternational, 1974. Print.
Lida de Malkiel, Mara Rosa. Dos obras maestras espaolas: El Libro de buen
amor y la Celestina. Buenos Aires: Losada, 1983. Print.
Lpez Baralt, Luce. "Sobre el signo astrolgico del Arcipreste." Huellas del
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Mariana, Juan de. Historia de Espaa. Madrid: Benito Cano, 1794, t. III.
Mrquez Villanueva, Francisco. "El caso del averrosmo popular espaol
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de Valencia, 1997. 121-32. Print.
---. Orgenes y sociologa del tema celestinesco. Madrid: Anthropos,
1993. Print.
Martnez Casado, Angel. "Aristotelismo hispano en la primera mitad del siglo
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Menndez Pelayo, Marcelino. Historia de los heterodoxos espaoles. Ed. V.
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Morros, Bienvenido, and Francisco Toro Ceballos, eds. Juan Ruiz, Arcipreste
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Prez Lpez, Jos Luis. "El cdice T del Libro de buen amor en su biblioteca:
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Puibusque, Adolphe de. Histoire compare des littratures espo1gnole el
fran(aise. Vol. l. Paris: G. A. Dentu, 1843. Print.
Rico, Francisco. '"Por a ver mantenem;ia.' El aristotelismo heterodoxo en. el
Libro de buen amor." El Crotaln 2 (1985): 169-98. Rpt. in Estud1os
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55-91. Print.
Van Steenberghen, Fernand. La pllosophie du XIII" side. Louvain-P.uis:
Editions Peeters, 1991. Print.
Solange Alberro
A HERETIC IN NEW SPAIN: ALBERTO
ENRQUEZ, ALIAS BROTHER MANUEL DE
QUADROS
TRANSLATED BY MONIQUE DASCHA INCIARTE
F
ray Manuel de Quadros's case was much talked about in the second
half of the seventeenth century, when the Holy lnquisition of New Spain
had returned to its "floxedad antigua" (old laziness) once the embers of the
autos-da-f that were the culmination of the persecution of practicing Jews
during the "Complicidad Grande" (Great Complicity) had died (Inquisicin).'
Quadros's case was truly unprecedented. For fifteen years the defendant was
kept imprisoned and the inquisitors and clergymen involved were perplexed,
the first proceedings begun in 1663 and Quadros's surrender to secular hands
as a heretic ratified in 1678. Let us familiarize ourselves with Quadros's
character and the context that formed him, since only rhen can we begin ro
intuir sorne of the possible motives in the trajectory that sent him to the stake,
even if we may not understand his unique destiny in an era and a sociery i
which heretics were airead y exceptional.
U pon entering the lnquisition's jails on November 13, 1663, Quadros was
"un hombre de buen cuerpo, entrecano de barba, enjuto de rostro y la nariz
grande y el pelo algo crespo y la barba tambin, de edad al parecer de ms
de 40 aos" (a fit man, graying beard, skinny face with a large nose and
somewhat curly hair and beard, apparently over forty) (Inquisicin).' The
property confiscated from him was pitiable: an old torn book, "Libro curioso,
de phisonoma" (curious book, about physiognomy), that dealt with rhe
properties of things such as rhe herb rosemary, "y tambin de experimentos"
1. This expression belongs to the inquisitor Juan Senz de Maozca and is conrained
in a letter that he sent from Mexico ro rhe Council of rhe Supreme and General
Inquisition-the "Suprema"-in Madrid, on November 18, 1654. ar tht. end of the
so-called Great Complicity of practicing Jews (1642-1649) thJ.t to rhe
period of greatesr activity of rhe Holy Office in New Spain f .. 182\. J.
history of the Holy Office of New Spain, see Alherro,lnquisimm $-Ol'd&Jd tn Me.n_co.
2. The whole rrial is found in lnquisifl. Medina hridly deotls w1rh rhe ..:ase
with rhe Srarement of rhe Case (relacin de causa) sent hy rhe Trihuna.l ot the Holy
Office in New Spain to rhe Supreme Council (276-78).
The Ronldiit" Rl'l'it'll' Volunw 103 Numht>rs 1-.! () Thl' Tru<;ft'"t"!'l l\1 ('tllumhi.\
SoLANGE ALBERRO
jO
. which included a perpetua! lunar calendar; sorne small
(.
nd also expenmentsl: l fruit and other seeds; old and drrty rags that
. dhnestones, ' . f h'
P
apers thatcontatne . d k powders, preces o somet mg resembling
d . . of omtment, ar . h h d
containe preces and a larger paintbrush. Erg t pages t at to be
painr, hnie brushes, d rrtle bag in the form of an amma( S paw With
. d' . , astrology an a r . . d' . k 1
about u 1oar) . k and contaimng m tgo m , were a so found
loped m a soc . .
five claws, enve ely poor and hrs hbrary was composed of a
. Q d s was exrrem
on hrm. ua ro k tr'ons and pamphlets of popular astrology. In
b
kl f quac prescnp . . d
few oo ers
0
h Q dros had before rhe inqursrtors, he eclared that
rhe first heanng r at ua Id that his name was now Alberto Enrquez but
h r forry-three years o '
e "as B h F ancisco Manuel de Quadros, and that he was a member
had been ror er rrder and General Confessor of the province of Lima in
of rhe Francrscan o N S
Peru. He said he was born in Tlaltenango, Zacatecas, m ew pam, and
rook orders in Lima fourreen years ago, whrch he renounced only two years
earlier. His trip ro Peru and his rerurn to New Spam was a ventable odyssey
andan example of rhe mobility charactensttc of sorne pemnsular and Creo le
Spaniards who lived in rhe rwo great Vrceroyalnes of the seventeenth century,
New Spain and Peru.
3
In facr, in 1621, when the prisoner was only one year old, his father
suddenly abandoned Zacarecas in order to go ro Peru, at that time at its peak
in comparison with rhe siruation rhat was beginning to affect New Spain
around rhe same dates. Shortly rhereafter, his mother and the children moved
ro Mexico, where the family lived until his father sent for them. His father was
able ro restore himself ro a prosperous position in Peru. Accompanied by an
uncle who also lived in Zacarecas, a black slave woman, and two black slave
chrldren, rhe family began an adventure which consisted of a trip by land-in
sedan charrs and on rhe backs of lndians-and by sea, passing through Puebla,
Oaxaca,. Guatemala, Sonsonate, Realejo, Manta, Paita, Trujillo, Saa, and
finally Callao, where they reunired with Quadros's father who by that time
had become the owner of sh d h ' f
h
ddl f rps an ware ouses. The tnp !asted a year, rom
t e mr e o 1632 unril )une 23 1633 . h . . .
h
. , Wlt mtermmable stops at var10us
ports, as t ey warred for hy th 1 d
srated Quad , f h
1
f po enea epartures. For reasons that were not
at er e t h1s b f
the flour mili at th f previOus usmess to become the manager o
e convent 0 Santa C\ . L' "d
calenturas" linvolving f l h. ara m 1ma. After a long illness e
evers -w !Ch la t d fi
the '<h.ool of rhe Comp .. d . . se a year-Quadros went rst ro
- ama e jesus and th h .
attendmg for four or five A h . en to t e Colegio de San Marttn,
h h
year>. tt e unrv h d'
w en . e approximately t erstty, e stu ted the arts, stoppmg
wuh h" parenr., hur aftcr q years old. He thcn returned ro living
_ uarre mg WJth his father over sorne stolen money,
and .
Reuirw. of Manuel de Quadros in Colonial l.atin
A HERETic IN NEw SPAIN
51
he moved ro Lima for four or five months and lived with a painter who had
apparently come from New Spam. Durmg this period he had no occupation.
After that, he returned to h1s parents. Finally, he rook the ha bit of Sr. Francis,
accordmg to h1m m 1634 or 1635, which does not seem possible since at that
age he was still studying.
. About his novitiate he remembered almost nothing. After a year of living
m the L1ma convent, h1s supenors senr him to Pisco, from where he was
summoned back to Lima only to be sent back to Pisco, and finally w rhe
Franciscan house of Caete. Clearly dissatisfied with his situation-and his
superiors dissatisfied with his performance-Brother Manuel rhen requested
lea veto participa te in the "conversin y conquista" (conversion and conquesr)
of the Panataguas lndians. He returned to Peru and was named chaplain by
the Count of Alva. Having become upset with him (Quadros does not rell
us why, but we can imagine the frustration they felt with his instability and
inconsistency), the prelates "exiled" him to Saa and finally to Panama.
The Franciscan began another odyssey in arder ro return ro New Spain,
going by boat to Paita, Pasa o, the Emeralds, and T umaco, and then by canoe
to the mines of Tinbigui. In Cali, he fell seriously ill, wandered for a year in
Paez Indian territory, continually suffering from indefinite illnesses, and rhen
traveled by rivers and finally through mountain plateaus. Upon arriving in
Santa Fe and fearing discovery by religious authorities, he removed his ha bit,
which in any case was in rags as a consequence of his wanderings. He rhen
went north to what is now Colombia, through the valley of Neyba, Honda city.
the ports of Purmio and Monpox, and the valley of Olaa, all in an attempt
to arrive at Santa Marta. When he couldn't reach Santa Marta, he wem ro
Maracaibo, through Coro, Valencia, Caracas, and La Guaira, where he hoped
ro embark for New Spain. Quadros believed there existed certain "privilegios"
(privileges) allowing Franciscan brothers who were "descarriados'' lhd lost
their way) to move to Nicaragua, where they were needed in evangelizanon
and pastoral work, and he hoped to find refuge in that part of Central AmerKd.
According to his declaration, it was easier ro do this heginning from a port in
New Spain like Campeche rather than crossing into Guatemala. In f<:h:t, n is
more likely that he feared being identified and detained in Guatemala. where
there was an important network of Seraphk t.:'onvents. He pretended to lx
headed for Mexico City ro solicit a hearing from the viceroy .ti sm"'t'
he had in mind "proponer al gohierno una agencia que rray.1 en
de los yndios de los halles del Per. en que le nomhraron por J(' sus
negocios y capitulaciones t.:on su MaJt"Sta.d ;Kert.:'a de los
que rezevan de los t.:orregidores y cur<lS, proponiendo llur l<"'!i
hazan tener en servicios personales" .m the
sitKe he had hecomt rrusttd lw rhc lndi;ms of the , .. ot Prru, who n.unt'\.1
him rheir agcnt in dl'alings an.d agrt't"lllt'nts with H"
5! . . d ro by rhe corregidores and priests
h re sube<te . h h f ,
and tributes rhat t ey we f personal serviCe t at t ey were orced
who proposed excessive do Quadros pretended that he had been
. 1 In other "or s, h . 1 . b
inro) (lnq11iswon .
1
d'ans ro present t etr comp amts a out
. d L me Peruvlan n 1 .d b f
commisSione ") so h h ds
0
priests and corregt ores e ore the
h h
d suffered att e an I'k 1
the abusest ey a S Th
1
s appears an un 1 e Y story smce the
h of New pam.
viceroval aut onnes f the Andean Viceroyalry.
Indians were subecrs
0
. d' embarked in Campeche, where he was ill
Th
. f girive FranCJscan IS h
e no\\ u h he went ro Veracruz, where e was 1 another
f f\\O months From t ere d f fif d h
or h p bl where he recuperare or teen ays; t en ro
two months; t en ro ue a, . 1 H . d . M . d
Atlixco where he spent a week in a hosplta . e amve m exiCO an was
1
'.
11
r fifteen or sixteen days. He went to Queretaro, where he
grave y 1 agam
0
. . h 1 d f h J d'
had luck and practiced the mediCmal artS e earne rom t e n 1ans;
then
10
Celaya, where he dedicated himself ro the same acnv1ty for two
months; then ro Ptzcuaro, where he practiced healmg for five or SIX months.
After spending sorne time in Zamora, he returned ro where he was
detained. During his long wanderings between Peru and M1choacan, Quadros
survived by painting biblical and religious scenes in the churches of the towns
he travelled through and practiced healing based on the knowledge he had
acquired from the "Yndios" (lndians). We do not know whether this meant the
"Paez," the "Pataguanes," or others with whom he lived. When the inquisitors
made him take note of the many incongruities in his story, the prisoner did
not reply and simply declared that since he was very poor, he had desisted
from going to Nicaragua in order ro look for two of his cousins who were in
Guanajuaro. But when he arrived in Celaya, a Franciscan cousin of his who
had let him stay in his convent told him that the cousins he was looking for
were not there, so Quadros decided ro go ro San Luis Potos ro find another
of h1s cousms, a certain Brother Jernimo de Herrera.
f
Apparently, his abundance of cousins was not an invention. In fact the
amtly was composed of h f h J Al '
R d . .
15
at er, uan onso de Quadros alias Antonio
nattveh of Tavi;a in Algarve, Portugal. In he had
Peru he changodnghwn an une he of hiS, Matheo de Herrera. Upon arriving in
' e IS name so t at he Id b f
Spain. He sent for his wf d h'ld wou not e orced to return to New
. 1 e an e 1 ren as soon h f d d ..
m Peru. His mothe' Ana d M d' as e o un a goo poSinon
' e e ma was a naf f S L d
As a prisoner Quadros de
1
d h' h lve o an ucar de Barrame a.
' e are t at e kne h. f h d
maternal grandparents h' h . b' w not mg o is paternal an
ro thc new continenr 't: IC
15
a Jt strange since, even after emigrating
k d ' as common for the . h b' .
mg oms to receive news of d f m a Itants of the Amencan
O h f h an rom elders a d h
n t e at er s side there h d b
0
ot er penmsular relanves.
' a cen an uncle, Manuel Rodrguez Bala, who
4. lltarmg hdd IJeccmhcr 3, 1661.
A HERETic IN NEw SPAIN
53
had been a clothing merchant in Zacatecas. 1t is he who accompanied Ana
de Medma and her ch1ldren on the long trip ro Peru. Once in that Andean
country, .where he finally d1ed, he changed his name ro please his brother,
Quadros s father. ,Th1s uncle mamed, but we do not know whom or where.
On h1s mother s s1de, h1s uncle, Juan de Medina, who had been a second
lieutenant, was betrayed and killed in Callao twenty years earlier. Another
maternal uncle, a certain Francisco de Medina, had gone ro rhe Philippines
sorne nme before. In Mamla, he was a soldier and governor, married and had
children, and, like almos! all the relatives, changed his name and was now
called Bargas Machuca. Another uncle had been the Duke of Medinasidonia 's
valer. Quadros had not personally known any of these uncles and learned
what he knew of them from his mother. A maternal aunt, Mara de Medina,
married the miner Matheo de Herrera of Zacatecas, with whom Quadros's
father had worked as a miner when he had arrived in New Spain. Quadros
had had four children: Luis de Herrera, deceased; Juan de Medina, half-crazy
and married though separated from his wife; Francisco de Herrera, about
whom nothing was known; and finally, Brother Jernimo de Herrera, member
of the Augustinian order, who supposedly lived in San Luis Potos and for
whom Quadros pretended to be looking. The Herrera/Medina couple also
had many daughters and, apparently, three other sons, Baltasar, Melchor, and
Diego. Quadros also had siblings. There was the college-educated Antonio
Bartholom de Quadros, who was a cleric in the province of Huailas, in Peru,
and two single sisters, Doa Ana and Doa Jernima, who lived with their
mother (Inquisicin).'
The Holy Inquisition of New Spain sought information about these
declarations through its Peruvian counterpart and the commissioner in
Zacatecas, where the family had lived. Basically, they confitmed what the
ex-brother had said, the only discrepancy being the date he took the ha bit,
which according to the Lima Tribunal was in 1644 and not ten years earlier.
as Quadros declared. Everything indicated that Quadros's iamily was old
Christian and had a good reputation in Zacatecas as well as in Peru and that
the prisoner had in fact been a member of the Franciscan order in Lima. None
of its members had any history with the Holy lnquisition since thev were good
Christians. Besides, rhe daughters were pious: together with their mother thn
tried to make a retreat for "honest girls" in rheir house in LtmJ..
However, a declaration made by the hanscan brorhcr Marh1as de
Palomares, chaplain of the Holy lnquisirion in Lima, shed so me hghr on
Brother Alberto's behavior: the Sacristan of the convrnt ot 'h...t.
Brother Marrin de Y gararn, had told him th<ll when Quadros ll\ed rhere.
''sala muchas vezes del convento sin licencia por la m.t.m.t Y \'olnJ
5. Hearing held Novemher lll, 16td.
SoLANGE AtsERRO
54 d. d d .
. . l d ca que le 1ese reca u o para ec1r misa
d
latgleSia,ye e d 1 '
de las onze, a tenda los corporales y sm ecu misa, os volva
rebestido, saha al altar Y d la sacrista" (he would often lea ve the
y b a a desnu ar a Id f
a recoger y se en . . . h morning and he wou return a ter eleven
. h ermJSSIORIOt e 11 . '
coment wu P, closed, and would ask for a co ecnon to say mass, _and
when the church "as d
1 10
the altar and ser out the altar covenngs
he woul go ou . .
in vesrments, . h uld pick the altar covenngs up agam and he
and, without saymgh mass, el (wlnoquisicin)' In other words, in spite of being
Id d sinl evesrry d
wou un fore obliged 10 celebrare mass every da y, Qua ros arranged
a pnest and
1
"' h
1
say it while acting as tf he had. BeSides thiS, he
ir so he woul not ave \, and would regularly lea ve the convent without
did not respect monastiC ru . . d d b 1
11 f which indicated a rebelhous atlltu e an an a so ute
permlfIOR, a o . . bl' .
disre;pect for rhe most precise of biS pnestly o tgauons. .
On rhe other hand, rhe oldest witnesses m Zacatecas that knew the famdy
pointed out that rhe departure of Quadros's father for Peru was sudden, that ir
seemed somewhat srrange. One of them, Cristbal Venegas Y Ftgueroa, about
sixry-seven years old, had even heard that Rodrguez Bala, the prisoner's
farher, was jewish. This same point had been mentloned three years before
rhese declarations (the ones requested by the Holy lnquisition in Zacatecas
were from 1666, when Quadros had already been in the lnquisition's jails for
three years) by those who had denounced the ex-priest/painter/healer who
practiced his healing arts in Ptzcuaro and in this way brought about his
arresL Among the witnesses in Przcuaro, for example, was a free mulatto
tailor, Lorenzo de Velasco, who considered Quadros to be Jewish without
ustifying his udgment, and the widow Jernima de Velsquez, who was told
by omeone in Mexico that Quadros was jewish. Also, the surgeon Jacinto
Na barro de Errera heard it said that Quadros was the son of Duarte de Len
Jaramillo, and Ignacio Gonzlez, a young mulatto slave and Lorenzo de
Ve_lasco's tailor-apprentice, added to his previous declaration that a man had
... d that Quadros was the S f s ' V' S .1
1
, , . on o 1mon aez ev1 la and that his name was
rea ly (Jaspar Vaez 1t worth b . h
D d
. . remem enng t at many people clearly recalled
uarre e Leon Jaramllo as 11 s , ,
J 11
. ' we as tmon Vaez. In fact Duarte de Len
aram o was put on tnal rwice by th .b 1 f b . ' .
the years 162M and
1635
d h. b e
1
" una or emg a practicing Jew m
de fe., April 11
1649
s's _ody was handed over for the Great Auto
pero;on in thc ':'
1
e

Vez, who was then the most powerful
church, o;wpped of hi.., of New Spain, was brought back to the
f
' \e\sons and exled al . h h f .,
3
' parr '' the ..,ame auto-d -f' u\ lb ong Wlt t e rest of his amt y
SH-HS; .\1edma IW9-20H,a e erro, Inquisicin y sociedad en Mxico
fl. 1 rtter Holy ()ffi
wnnr-,\ 1111 B n I.Jma ro the ll()l Ofti
' rorhn .\1arlua, dr Palomares. Y ce m Mcx1co, Novembcr 6,
A HERETIC IN NEw SPAIN
55
But what had Quadros said ot done that allowed the witnesses of Ptzcuaro,
far from the where Without doubt the inhabitants were not experts in
heterodoxy, to msmuate, suppose, and even assume thar rhe wandering healer
was Jewish?
The First Denunciations and Accusations
The denunciations were divided, generally, into rwo categories. The first
is his lack of adherence to the most common religious beliefs and practices.
Quadros, for example, would correct the young people when they prayed,
warning them not to say they believed "in" the Holy Spirit or "in" the Virgin
but rather, "1 believe the Holy Spirit" and "1 believe the Virgin." He would also
say that one must not believe in the Virgin Mary, he did not mention God in
his greetings and attended neither mass nor sermon, and when he happened
to attend one, he would arrive at the end. As a painter, he painred characters
only from the Old Testament. He did not accompany the Blessed Sacrament
when it would pass by in the street, even hiding behind a door to avoid seeing
it. He did not carry a rosary nor did he pray. Once he was in the Inquisirion's
jails, the warden confirmed these transgressions: Quadros would nor remove
his hat when prayer was held and even said that he did not know how to pray.
Quadros also declared that he was not a Christian but that if his accusers
wanted him to be one he would be, and when he heard the formula "praised be
God," he would not answer anything. Referring to the inquisitors, he had said:
"estos seores quieren que yo sea christiano de por fuera" (rhese men want
me to be Christian on che outside). On another occasion, when ministers carne
to his jail to console him and tell him to entrusr himself to Christ, Quadros
mockingly laughed, "What Christ?" He had said when asked about the Trinity,
"yo lo ver all, y me pesa mucho de ha ver sido y e sido un lt.lCO
en el mundo y io s muy bien lo que me basta" (1 willlind out there, and 1 am
very sorry for having been a Christian, and 1 ha ve been crazy in the world and
1 know very well when it is enough forme). He had also erased three crosses
that were painted on the wall of the jail to which he had been moved. 1t was
noted that when he was given pork in jail he ate it, suggesring he was not a
practicing Jew (Medina 277).'
7. Procecdings that took place 111 Ptzcuaro nn Se-ptemhc-r .l a.nd -4. IM'!o.l; 11.
14, and 18, 1664; May 6 and August "", lh, and 1-, lt.t-'i; .l. 1tof\fl, .anJ
so forth. The Holy obtainC'd denuttclations .mJ testunome" "h1le 1t ,uMmrtt.J
Quadros, already imprisoned, ro mtcrrop.atones.. lk-Mdt,, "tunnJl thc:- ltt-.,1 n"n. '' hu.
long imprisonmcnt, Quadros himsdf m.uesrt'\1 hranll.!'Jo m.un umn.. lll "h-..:h hr
his and practices.
SoLANGE ALBERRO
0 .
. had to do with Quadros's mag1c and healing
The second accusauon . L renzo de Velasco a green b1rd; knew
h d
. en the Wltness o 1 .
P
ractices. He a gv d d white black, and purp e was an
d
. aidheun erstoo ' h .
how torea pa ms, s d h d ked for burial land for ca mg practlces.
l
. d trologer an a as h 1 . 1 .
herba 1St an as , Id when dedaring w o 11s re anves were or
.d h. hs answers wou vary . l
Bes1 es t ts,
1
Id d' emble asking quesuons a )OUt ports and
h h
from He wou !SS , 1 h
w ere e was . p e diz Portugal and Nicaragua, w 1Crc e said
d He spoke about eru, a , ' . f 1 l d.
roa s. d . d H pretended ro ha ve heen capta m n t 1e n wns
h anted ro be or ame . e . 1 fi .
e w d b h Holy Office and said rhat 11 was not t 1c rst time
when he was arreste y t e . . d. d 1 Q d
he had been arrested.s Up until now, everythmg m !Cate t Mt ros
110
different from rhose religious hobos who had ahandoned rhc1r monast1c
vows and survived by near criminal behavwr. 1deas a<.:tlons were far
from orthodox, but rhey did not reveal a conscwus or heterodoxy
either. Beca use of rhis, rhe inquisitors who met together on the tirst of October
declared rhat previous depositions only indica red y sospechosos
en nuestra santa fe catlica" (events and declaraoons suspu:1ous ro our Holy
Catholic faith). Everything changed, however, as the months and then years
went by. Quadros's trial would last fifteen years.
In fact, Quadros's arrest fulfilled one of the inquisitors' main ohjectives
of disorienting rhe prisoner and weakening or even breaking down all of
his methods of physical, mental, and emotional resistance. When Quadros
asked to be moved ro another jail, since his was too cold, hum id, or dark, his
application was accepted, not out of concern for his healrh hur as part of a
common srrategy among inquisirors. They killed many hirds with one stone
by giving in ro the requests of a prisoner. They rook care of his physical and
moral integrity since ir was not convenient for him ro die or go crazy. They
would sensitivity ro his needs in order ro seem humane. A hove all, rhey
_
1
pso facro turn their willingness ro house him in a more comfortable
pnson
1010
a sign of a recognition of his frailty. They suggested ro the prisoner
that he would be returned to th fi . h d'd .
h. . e rst a1 1 e 1 not cooperare sufficiently m
15
con

hinted that conditions would improve if his cooperation
were consdered sausfactory in th f h . .
fact rhat th . . e eyes o t e mm1sters. However, des pite the
e mqulsltors almost always 11 d Q d b
jails when he asked h.
1
a owe ua ros ro move ro etter
, !S menta state deteri d d b 1 1 d b h
combination
0
his int . bl d orare , o u t ess y ca use y t e
ermma e etenrion and his eccemric personality.
Weakness of the Flesh
Aboutfour monrhs after be in .
of his third admonishmenr dg ha ed on November 13, 1663 on rhe occasion
h d an t e readmg of h h ' d
e was a so omite and that h h d f IS e arges, Quadros declare
e a
0
ten committed "pecados muy ocultos Y
8. References are practically the same as h
t ose of the previous note.
A HERETIC IN NEw SPAIN
57
muy o.mt.i?uos, y que no pertenecan a este Santo Tribunal, y despus
dev1an de ser la caussa de su prisin, por ser pecados feos y
.Y en partes muy y remotas, cometidos donde no lo poda
ver nad1e (sms that were very htdden and very old, and that he understood
rhar rhey did nor be long in rhis Holy Tribunal, and he larer recognized that
rhey r:nust he_ reason for his imprisonment, since rhey were ugly and
abommable sms m very secret and remote places, committed where no one
could see ir). This staremenr perplexes us. If rhese crimes did nor belong ro rhe
jurisdiction of rhe Holy Office and if rhey had been commitred in places and in
circumstances wherc there could not ha ve been witnesses, why confess ro rhem
before the inquisitors? Why consider them as the reason for his imprisonment
instead of responding ro the accusation that had just been given him and that
only spoke of evenrs rhat were suspected ro be heretical? Here we have one of
many incongruities that constantly characterize Quadros's behavior befare rhe
inquisitorial judges. Was ir a delaying tacric? An amusement? Duero remorse
or fears rhat an eventual denunciation for those reasons might surface, even
knowing rhar rhe tribunal did not get involved in this sort of crime? Was rhere
doubt about his confession since his priestly condition did effectively confer
upon the Holy Office the ability to judge him in certain cases?
Beginning with this confession, Quadros spoke at length about the subject,
not without a certain complacency, encouraged by the very precise questlons
made by the inquisitors. He admitted that he had incomplete sexual relations
with a large number of young men, usually natives, and with a few Spaniards,
and had even committed many acts of bestiality, wirh mules and hens, and
had touched horses. Vice had accompanied him since childhood, and he had
foughr ir with the prayers, fasrs, and drinks rhar were recommended ro him ro
fight ir without results. Quadros insisted greatly on the point that the coitos
was always incomplete since he was careful notro ejaculare inside the person
or animal, considering rhar rhen his act could not be more rhan ordinary
pollurion and not, rherefore, the abominable sin. When he gave himself over
to this vice he would think of young men he had known in college or single
women he had "not been able ro attain," which allows one ro surmise that
he had never, or infrequently, been successful with women. He f?r
forgiveness and merey and declared that he had heard three different vmces m
his jail, among rhem that of Christ himself, which suggested he fully confessed
for his sins (lnquisicin).
9
.
But after Quadros claimed ro have held this aberrant pseudo-mysncal
dialogue with Christ, the Holy Office perceived him as a charlaran who
pretended ro ha ve heard voices. This relationship berween the
his judges became tenser. In effect, each rime that rhey pressed h1m
questions and objections, confronting him with his constant contradKtlt.ms.
9. Hearing held Fehruary 14 and 15, in the first year of his derention.
SoLANGE ALBERRO
18
nding that he had airead y answered thos
. . d himself to respo 1 . h e
Q
uadros hm1te k b ut other things, na me y, usmg ene antments
h
h setospea a o h . '
questions or e e
0
h . rhe subject from what t ey were mterrogating
d
forth e angmg d f h
ralismans,an so ' A the same nme an rom t en on, Quadros's
ial matters. t .
1
.
him about to ttiV d . . n began to stead1ly dec me.
psychological state an Sltuano
Chaos and Heresy
ween
1664
and !678, the voluminous file on Quadros (about 600
Bet . fi 'te number of heanngs, most of them requested by
pages) attests to an m m fi d 1 1 h d H
the risoner, in which ir is impossible to n a ogJca t rea . e constantly
fell fnto oaths, contradictions, and retractions. When he felt cornercd by the
inquisitor's arguments and objections, he wou.ld often defend h11nse!f m
and provocative ways and shield himself behmd the fact that the Church d1d
not force him ro believe one rhing or anorher or. he was not aware .of a
particular article of faith. But let us try to synthes1ze. h1s most r.elcvant
ideas,and certainries among his disordered affirmanons. He d1d not belJeve m
the HolyTrinity but rather in one true God. Everything else was, according to
hi , "discursos de hombres y patarata y mentira, porque no ha hahido Cristo,
Virgen, Santos, Iglesia, infierno ni pecado ni nada de esto era de fe ni lo poda
creer ... no crea lo que rezaba el Credo, ni siquiera lo entenda" (men's speech
and ridiculous nonsense, because there had not been Christ, or the Virgin, or
Saints, Church, hell or sin, nor was any of that the truth nor could he believe
in it ... he did not believe in the Credo, did not even understand it). The rest
could be deduced from this. And so he did not know who would be saved and
who would be. condemned; thought it was better to kili the hunger of a poor
than to g1ve alms ro the saints; and that charity was most important. He
did not believe in Adam or Eve or in original sin, denied that the incarnation
took place by the grace of the Holy Spirit as well as God's presence in the
dand Christ's humanity, and so forth. The Holy Office sent him to
e torture and first judged him ('
16661
"h . l
alumbrado ,
111
as a ereJe general, hereje forma,
encamina y ens. no esta a cosa que a lo que su iglesia interior le
ena (general heret1c f 1 h . . . .
nothing but what h" . h ' orma eret1c, IllummJst behevmg
Three years e urlch tutors teach him) (Medina 277).'o
Offi ' r consu tmg with the . d b h H 1
ce, the tribunal declared him "h . censors . y t e o y
espec1e de herejas obstin d ere1e formal, umversahss1mo en toda
sospechoso en el d protervo e impenitente vehemente
e JU aJsmo" (a formal heretic, universal every sort
Medmasymhesizedthestatementsmad b
Holy of New Spain on the basis of
mplete at times, these stateme t d. Supreme Council. In the trial, wh1ch
n s are ISseminated across numerous hearings.
A HERETIC IN NEw SPAIN
59
of her.esy, impenitent, vehemently suspected of
the cnme of

Finally, after fifteen years of detention,
doubts, wtth the Supreme Council, and attempts ro clarify rhe
as t1me passed became more and more complex and opaque,
rhe mquJSJtors accused Quadros of being "de nimo heretical errneo
soberbio . coincida con el impo Donato, el blasfemo
de las malvadas y condenadas sectas de Calvino y Lutero, sospechoso de
judasmo, supersticioso, adivino, con sospechas de pacto con el Demonio
menospreciador e irrisor de los ministros eclesisticos y Pelagianas . '
hereje sacramentario . necromntico augurero, chiromntico, judiciari ,
impostor de Bulas Apostlicas, iluso, finga revelaciones, sodomita
y brutal superfluo, protervo, vario, negativo e impenitente ." (of a
heretical disposition, arrogant ... with impious Donato,
blasphemous Macedomo, an acolyte of the evll and condemned sects of Calvin
and Luther, suspected of Judaism, superstitious, a fortune teller, suspected of
making pacts with the devil, dismissive and derisive of ecclesiastic ministers
and Pelagian . sacramental heretic necromantic reader of omens,
chiroman..:er, a judiciary astrologer ... an impostor of Apostolic Bulls, naive,
faking revelations, brutal and sodomitic superfluous, perverse, fickle,
negative and impenitent ... ). One can sense the exasperation and irritation of
the Holy Office in these judgments and in the final sentence, which amounted
to heretical ac..:usations. These were not clearly defined and were mixed
wirh less serious accusations like those of healing and superstition that were
usually judged by the tribunal with certain benevolence. The accumulation
o! accusations of different sorts reveals the difficulty faced by the tribunal in
characrerizing Quadros 's deviations insofar as these were made up of di verse
heretical tendencies but were united in a sui generis individual who eluded
traditional classification. Ir also reveals rhe Holy Office's frustration wirh its
failure since, in spite of all its efforrs, rhe prisoner rernained impenitent.
Quadros's was a difficult and delicate case because, as he had said ar
the beginning, he was a Franciscan brorher and priest. The familial and
sociocultural milieu in which he was raised in Peru during the first half of
the sevenreenth century, although similar in many aspecrs to New Spain, was
also different. Moreover, the information rhat was obtained from New Spain
was sparse and belated. And so the Holy Office of New Spain doubted rhar
Quadros was really a Franciscan and a priesr until the Peruvian Holy Office
underrook the investigaran that confirmed what the prisoner said. The same
rhing happened in relarion ro rhe origins of rhe Rodrguez Bala family, which
rhe Mexican inquisitors suspected of being conuerso, a fact refured by the
Peruvian Holy Office.
1 l. Scssion held february 22, 1669.
SoLANGE ALBERRO
60
d relarively quickly, and in 1669 the Holy ffice
The erial proceede d r ro the secular branch, that 1s, to bu
d ro surren e .fi d b rn
condemned Qua ros h tence needed to be ran e y the Supreme
k
H wever t e sen . h 1
at the sta e .. o ,'fall of 1671-taking mto account t e ong stretches
Council, whKh.
10
th d bureaucratic routmes-ordered that th
. . . r J b . sea voyages an . . e
ot ume 1mp" l d d h t everything be done ro convmce the pnsoner
. b spende an t a d 'd
execunon. e su h' rs The orders from Ma n were received in
. d ;onfess IS erro . d .
ro retraer an . f 1673 and confession was attempte many times wirh
in the sprmgho . more rhan acknowledgments followed
Q
J OS Wlthout 3C lfVIOg . .d 1
ua r '. d' (ons and incoherence. E ven m mi - 6 76 Quadros
bv rerracuons, contra IC I ' k h d h'
. . d h h Id be ser free; we do not now w at ma e m think
W3SC0flVIOLf ( at CWOU e "1 . f
so However, in the fall of that same year, rhe Supreme ounct 'm ,ormed that
siruation in Mexico was no! going as hoped, ordered Quadros s surrender
ro the secular branch, and on February 28, 1678, he was solemnly defrocked
in rhe chamber of rhe sacerdotal tribunal by the DommiCan brother Diego
de AguiJar, bishop of Zeb. The next day, during a heanng requested by rhe
prisoner, now freed from his priestly expressed hts
clearer 1han ever. By request of the inquiSitors, the archb1Shop of
Brother Payo de Rivera, triedro esrablish a dialogue with him and interrogated
him about arricles of faith, during which time Quadros stated he believed what
rhe Church ordained. He also expressed the desire to return ro the Franciscan
order, from which he said he had distanced himself beca use of his superiors.
Davs later, he again declared befare rhe inquisitors that even if he was a
Carholic and respected Church teachings, they could not force him to think
differently than he rhought. The day befare the auto-da-f, two Dominicans
entered his cell, along wirh other religious figures, who took rurns at his side
durmg the night, and tried ro obra in the prisoner's remorse. Nothing worked.
On 20, 1678, fifteen years after having entered the Inquisition's jail,
Quadros, m order ro av01d the horrible death that awaited him accepted
confess10n and showed f '
h . . sgns o remorse. In return he was strangled befare
avmg hJS body consigned ro the flames."
Alberto Enriquez or Rodri u /'
and "Half-mad" g ez, a as Brother Manuel de Quadros, Heretic
Who was this individual who af
on tht" \take ata time h . ' ter a torturous and tormented life, ended up
a penonality \uch ac; en
11
ra.re\y lit anymore? How can we discover
rook on diffcrem and ls, presenrmg.uself under many names someone who
even conrradJctory roles and personalities during his
--
12. ,\<, hy MeJma, thc chroni.
wrorc rh,u wa<, hurncd alivc Amomo de Robles was wrong when he
edma
41
5, no1e 34; Robles 236).
life? are not alrhough sorne of rhem may at times
risk mvesttgattng matenals wnh anachronistic tools. The materials rhat
documental often provide, parsimoniously at rhat, are succinct,
filtered, and cod1fied with a ser of conceptual categories anda semantics rhat
are different from our own. Their investigations can be exciring intellectual
exercises but not very convincing in historical terms beca use ir
5
difficulr
enough to dec1pher the personality of a living man. How much more difficult
it is to decipher the personality of a dead man who lived centuries ago and
whose destmy seemed mcomprehenstble even to his inquisitors, who were
professionals in psychology and pathology. For this reason, and at the risk
0

presenting only banal evidence, 1 willlimit myself to giving my impressions
0

the case with no other basis than the relative familiarity 1 ha ve gained from
consulting historical documents.
First, 1 would like to return to the Rodrguez Bala/Quadros family. Contrary
to the opinion expressed by the Peruvian Holy Office based on investigations
it undertook in Lima/El Callao, 1 think that the family's origin was converso.
In the first place and without being a definitive symptom, since the practice
was common in the period in which no sort of identity control existed-
parochial registries were the only registries and they were very inconsisrenr-
we can see that the Rodrguez Bala/Quadros family, and each of its members,
changed first and last names according to need and circumsrance. However,
we know that this was frequent practice among the majority of the population
in the viceroyalties insofar as individuals led somewhat hazardous exisrences.
lt became systematic among converso families and especially crypto jewish
ones that changed their identities, residences, and activiries as soon as rhey
felt threatened or sought new opportunities. On the other hand, the father's
Portuguese origin is striking, since in rhe 1620s in Ame rica this almost always
meant being of converso origin and a practicing Jew.
13
Besides, the dispersion
of family members in America, the Philippines, and Spain and the existence
of a brother who was a priest and particularly devoted sisters and mother all
coincides with a frequent pattern among converso families, who often spread
out to take advantage of opportunities and tended to assign sorne of their
members to en ter church service in arder ro attest ro the sincerity and tervor
of rheir Catholicism as well as to prevent suspicion from falling on
relatives. The businesses and locations of the Rodrguez Bala/Quadros tamlly
13. Ir must be remembered that rhe consolidarion of rhe crowns of (:-tstJIIl' ,tnJ
Portugal between 1580 and 1640 favored the potssage ro . t .mJ
Philippines of the descendants of the jews who had hl'l'n npdled .tro.m Sp:Hn m. 14
9
-
and had fled ro Portugal, thinking there rhey would tind tht poss1hliny ot ...
to profess their Mosaic.: religion wirh gre.uer freedom. thc
majoriry nf them, were comersos or "'''"'"ws, dandestme pr .. Jews.
SoLANGE ALBERRO
61
Z
te
cas where a sm<lll converso cornn-. .
. e: first aca . . uun1ry
1 Se
em sigmficant to m d fortune attracted many practlclng Je ... h
a so . d whose goo . . h .
l
. d for a nme an d go El Callao/Lma, w1t a sohd nucleu
ve idcomean , . Sof
merchants who wou cuted in the Great of the thirtie
howereperse h . ,. f s,a
P
racticing)ewsw d. N w Spain. Finally, t e nme mess o Rodrguez''
f
flowereln e h
decade be . bandon Zacarecas dunng t e twentJes 1 ust befare the
Balas farherschmce roa Jews in New Spain. H
arresrs of sorne that the disbelief of the Franciscan brother
On the other ha res with that to be found among many French
M
1
d Quadros resona f .
anue e h R tion of the Edicto Nantes m 1685. Forced ro
P
nts after t e evoca . . . '
rotesra
1
. . 'fthey wished to stay m rhe1r ancestors coumry, they
convert to Catho IC!Sm 1 bh d d
. d f lfill rhe mandares of an a arre an persecutory religion.
were obhge tD u d h bl
f 1 t Of
fer a sincere converston an trreproac a e practice
They were cate u o d
ro all appearances while often remaining secretly bonde to the forbidden
faith. As the years passed, they and thelt descendants learned to hve torn
between their intimare convictions and rhose they were fon.:ed tu profess, sorne
losing rheir faith in the Catholic Church, as they perceived that individual
conscience, free will, and sincerity of converswn were elided m the lnterest
of mere appearances. For sorne, this process was the path that led them from
anger and intimare rebellion ro skepticism, and even a professed atheism. 1t
is true that in rhe tria( against Quadros there is no proof that he took this
parh, but we do have enough facts ro imagine it first beca use his family was
probably originally Jewish and second beca use the only belief he continually
expressed was that there was only one omnipotent God, which conjoined the
essence ofjudaism wirh Christianity. In other words, Quadros attempted a
reconc!hat!On of the two religions, impossible in that time period, by means
of reducmg them to their common denominator, which transformed him ipso
facro mto a heretic before both Catholic and, doubtlessly, Mosaic orthodoxy.
Perhaps th1s arrempt to 1 h d' . . .
.
1
reso ve t e contra ICUons of h1s personahty was
preCISe Y theexisrential axis of Manuel de Q d H' 1 b bl had
converso origins. He decid d b ua !S amt y pro y
vocarion but
1
f e. ro ecome a FranC!Scan, although w1thout a
wasasoa ugltlvea d d b d
painrer, a healer and f n renega e rother. He was a vagaban , a
hewastaken N: oSrtune teller who fled all his life, from Zacatecas when
fh
. w pamasaboyfr h' . . b
o 1s cominuous faulr h ' om IS convent m Ltma when, ecause
d
. s, ewassentto . . .
an to provmcial conve . d l partictpate m mdtgenous convers!On
e 1 b' nts, an a ter pr 1' d
0
om 1a, Venezuela a d fi
11
ow mg around contemporary Ecua or,
frequenred the mosr ,;m nt, na y, New Spain. He avoided big cities and
people, who taughr him reglons, those that were in ha bited by indigenous
were al so the leasr able ro With which he was able to survive and who
----- nounce hJm before remate ecclesiastic authorities.
14. 162! 16ll
' 'and so forth d D
' uane de Len Jararnillo, for example.
A HERETIC IN NEW SPAIN
But why flee? Just to avoid recognition and denunciation? He
als? .fled beca use hts sexual turned him into a pariah, just as his
opmwns matters of dtd, and even more seriously since they were
held by a pnest; beca use he !.ved from da y toda y, had a rebellious character,
and was a verse to followmg any aurhonty or discipline; and beca use of his
shady and perhaps dangerous family origin. Quadros was always looking for
somethmg, posstbly wtthout knowmg what it was. First the cloister's peace
and statutes when he was conferred the sacerdotal ha bit and ordination then
greater liberty in the different convents of the province of Lima and
ro the Indians, where he was either asked to be sent or sent as punishment; an
assured impunity conferred by bis ha bit during bis wanderings and the satiery
of his unspeakable sexual appetite; the Franciscan province of Nicaragua and
his mirage of an unpunished return to the monastery in an atmosphere of
freedom and, perhaps, licentiousness; the improbable cousins who remained
in New Spain, and so forth. Everything failed since none of these attempts
werc fulfilled or, when they were, they dissatisfied him. However, here we
are taking into account only the personality of this Franciscan, putting aside
the exterior contingencies that necessarily influenced his story: the context of
his family and of Lima, the Franciscan dynamics in which he was involved
in the Peruvian capital, his sexual proclivities and his unstable health, the
innumerable accidents that interrupted his wanderings, and so forth. 1t is a
fact that the period did not lend itself to projects that could be undertaken in
srraightforward terms, even less so in the Americas.
In the end we can ask ourselves what the intellectual and religious influences
were that could ha ve been absorbed by Quadros and that could ha ve led him
eventually to profess an indefinite monotheism and a diffuse incredulity. We
know nothing about this since he seems not to ha ve been marked by studies,
readings, or teachers and instead seerns to ha ve always hidden himself in
solitude. We ha ve seen that he claimed to ha ve studied at the universiry in Lima,
finishing when he was twenty years old. A few days befare he was bound over,
when Archbishop Nuez de Miranda asked him in bis cell whether he had
studied, Quadros answered that "era un ignorante y que estaba medio loco,
y que slo haba estudiado gramtica y algo de filosofa" (he was ignorant
and half-mad, and that he had only studied a bit of grammar and a bit of
philosophy) (Medina 277). We should also remember that his library was
limited to a book about herbs and healing substances and that it contained
a lunar calendar and eight sheets of judiciary astrology. Believing Quadros's
statements in this instance we must discard the possibility that he recetved a
solid intellectual and that he had contacts and intellectual hahits
that would throw a light on bis religious choices. . . .. . .
Finally, l ha ve constantly addressed the presence of "contradKtiOns . m h1s
lile and personality in order to explain bis destiny.l must recogmze that 111 tact
4
SoLANGE AtBERRO
1 ha ve proceeded arrogantly,_ wirh an anachronic systematic perspecrive
thar characrerizes us, the hetrs of and freud. lndeed, what gives
me the righr ro denounce "conrradrcnons m the hfe of someone who had
sufticient consistency and firmnes.s character to face the in order
nor ro renege on his intimare convrcrrons? In fact, the personahty of Alhe
Quadros!Enriquez alias Rodrguez was as complex and slippery as his
idenriry. He himself recognized rhis complexrty that he could not undersrand
considering himself "medio loco"(half-mad). Whar remains is what he said
of himself and whar the inquisirors saw in him: a heretic who deserved ro die
at the srake. Al! we can risk is to consider this unhappy person one of those
many marginalized beings, hidden away in anguish and solitude, a roorless
and arrant being in the chaotic as well as welcoming American world of rhe
seventeenrh cenrury.
El Colegio de Mxico
Works Cited
Alberro, Solange. Inquisicin y sociedad en Mxico IS71-1700. 5th ed.
Me;rco: Fondo de Cultura Econmica, 2002. Print.
--F. Elogro de la vagancia en la Amrica colonial: Las andanzas de
rancrsco Manuel de quadros p - N
1663" 1 . . . en eru, ueva Granada y Nueva Espaa,
1
.... Cooma/ LatmAmmcan Review 1 (1992) 161-73 Print
nqUisJCJon. Vol. 597, ex p. l. Mexico: AGN p . . . .
Medma,Jos Toribio. Historia de/1; .b . rmt.
en Mxico. 2nd ed M . "- una/ del Santo Oficio de la Inquisicin
de Robles, Antonio Edrcrones Fuente Cultura, 1952. Print.
Porrua, 1946. Prinr_
10
e ucesos Notables. VoL l. Mexico: Editorial
Irene Silverblatt
HERESIES AND COLONIAL GEOPOLITICS
heretical" rnuch r:nore than dimension of religious doctrine:
1t played a cntJcal role m the makmg of the modern world. In rhe
seventeenth century, Spanish religious and secular bureaucrars-modernity's
vanguard-fashioned institutions to rule over colonized peoples and over the
subjects of a slowly e-merging nation. was ar rhe core of rhese
imperial and national designs, and "the hererical," as ir turns out, was intrinsic
ro ra..:ethinking. Ev<1ngelizers preached messages of social arder, with a racial
and religious casr, to indigenous peoples living in Peru's countryside, while
Peru's ln4uisitors determined membership in the elusive, but worldwide, club
uf "aurhcnti<.:, racially-pure, O Id Christian, Spaniards"-Spaniards wirhour
the heretical stains of Jewish or Moorish ancestry.
1
Hannah Arendt, whose account of the origins of fascism 1 find very
suggesrive, combed Western history for a precedent that would have eased rhe
way for "civilized" peoples to embrace Hitler's barbarity. Arendt found rhat
antecedent in ninereenth-cenrury imperialism and idenrified two dimensions
of colonial control that would ha ve laid the groundwork for the horrors ro
follow: (1) bureaucratic rule and (2) race-thinking-racial ideologies that
turned bureaucrats into members of a superior, whire-European caste wirh
authority traversing the globe. Colonial rule's inherent violence was cloaked in
an aura of"rationality" and "civilizarion," and Arendr believed rhar this hidden
violence, its "subterranean stream," was as intrinsic to Western modernity as
its vaunted Enlightenment ideals. Arendt thus placed colonialism-and its
l. First, many thanks ro Jos Rabasa and Jeslis Rodrguez-Velasen fnr mvitmg me
to participare in an extraordinary conference--one of rhose rotre univers1ty evenrs
that was intellectually challenging, great fun, and the fonr of new frienJstups. Jo!o
ami jess are responsible for this, and 1 deeply apprcciare their gcneros1ty, w.;trmth,
and intellectual insight. 1 use Hannah Arendt's term ro descnlw the
rac1alized patterns developed he re. She spoke ah(mt rather th.tn
because it is a more inclusive term. The material in rhis eSS<1)' IS drawn trom my hook
Modern Inquisitions: Pt>m and the Coloni,ll Origins t)( thl' Ci1
1
1b::.t"d World (Duke llP,
2004).
The Roman11 Rt'licw Voluml' 10] Numhers 1-l Tht' ni Cnlumhl.l lllmt"rMf\
ftflfl. .,,V,.UIATT
M"' IMI>f,..C ,, rh.r "">d"'' ot:lk' ,,,.m., lw>wtvet, dt. ,.., reu.pmt
rh:ot 'Wtotr'" mdudmfllf "-.,, ...
"' mk, walll-d '"rh.r >i<mrn,; prou .. ' fli;u>ty w .... rhar
and .. .,, mtwined: et>i<WitlfM ""'"MI """W"';:::;
r-,# early '"" :M rh.r "* ....,...,.,
1nd nallfmal ..,.,. l>orn ovt t.l U>k.mal '"' mq,..,;
""() f.om.pt'' fin! wnt t..t txpanw.n dariftn rbt way< rhar a
r..t nati..,ht>t.d" et11rld M """'" rn et>lt-1 rhar
""'oltan<tm.!y madt "rulen" rntt "natl<-1" ,., __ ,.,. aJid
"""""'"" 'We ... n:llflf>n, tthnic:ny, prNfe_,.,
.ct!fl(lftltc :ond pr.iif!Cal dt>mmanu CtJOid op!;mn, mol r*<fr
'"'" 4l.mtthi"'! rhar ,... .dtrrtify a "racc."
lhio arrr.:k """' '""'"' fmm rrltp',.-.. "'""'""'*
and IM lAma Nffu: Nf !M ,.._., ..... (fht- UMraliu4
nd hururH:ra<:y t..t it tu,. I>UI/ htrny' Wflfr.but..-- "'dot
Nf ......tcrn ,;et'f'Oiiuu.
7
'We '""" ,.. ""*"'lfr'
'"'" a< rt humped up aJI'IifMf and "prttltWJdc-m" """''"'"" .tlld
and, admifttdly, "e do .,, al IM riM< o# ...,.,playNII! rlw ,....
r,/ ftlflfl:l!imt. Thio io a ""h !M hopn Nf
u>nlrihur"" 11> a mtJfe wmploilied po;tvrc Nf""' mot>denl -
FNttnpli:ns ... mlnl IUUl t1n Hn-uu uf 11U1ory
lhe r.t.lif!atimt '" t:rrt,.u: tM rrij!i<,... IM,Iock and praKn ,, _,., ptnpln
fell ro the dit><onan and in rhe tn'mtemrh umwry,
f)t,tlfinemJ were re-hlt IM rcmf"''flll rhnr .,.,..,, .....,,.,
Chriotianrry and thcm fmm .m..,. a """"'on---ilw <MYtmd
who rtturned to thc paJI'In of t!M,ir fortiarhcn. lo bmtr te.o<lo
1nd penuadt, dltlrin"''' '""ied wrnplc .,,,.,., "'"'"" 1ft 11-lo
nd ..,.,;,h, ro rhc Andun wurrtrytide. Uke ,.,., """''""' 1M ,.,_
wrilrtn hy de At-rla and Fernando dt At-mot.M wnr dlfo<:u.d ar
r>t!M,n t.ut lte rurM alwM rlltmwlvn ancl alll>UI IMw .,-..,. o dw ,...,
rrw.dcrn "'"ld-in-tiw-lfl:lktfllt, Thc .,,,.,. '"l>fd how wmt """'
prrwminf a rtiillitm rhaf rhty htlincd wovld llkw.-ly pn-wadt nM,.. "'-
nd >UI\. lhcy aht, .,. rart, atlictii.Jtf' Yono Nf dw lftlft.l -amtlllt
(,.,.,. ,. ftrtra"'l" (."""''''-k,. lorrliNM ,_, "lloOMi OtHdtM-.,..
f,,..,.,,. Nt.tr-""""'"'' ( ;.,lr..,orr<OI ( l MIIIINI 11. 1 1-,.

7 rt. '"'fU'""'"' ""' '"""'d '" ,,...,_ '"' '""""""'......., .....t ,., .. ,....,"'
....... Pf''J'Io.
66
IRENE SILVERBLATf
d 1 f "race-thinking" and "civilizing"-at the hean of
compamon 1 eo og1es o
modero experlence.
1
. . , l
Arendt believed that colonialism's governmg pnnop es -;ere launched by
nineteenth-century imperialism, but, as 1 ha ve argued, Arendt s Was
off by two centuries. Beginning in the late s1xteenth century: Spam s cuttmg-
edge bureaucrats were installing ciVIhzatwn-<lefined by and mseparable from
Catholicism-along with race-thmkmg des1gns throughout 1ts w1dely d1spersed
colonies. li we take the first wave of the European emp1re as the origin 0
modernity, we ha ve a better grasp of the weight of rehg10us orthodoxy-that
is, the weight of religious heresy-in the constructlon of very modern concepts
of '\:ivilization" and "race."
Placing modernity 's roots in the is 1, and
conceptualizing the Inquisition as one of lts vanguard msntutlons ts perhaps
even more so. But if we understand the making of the modern world as a "Great
Arch," as do Corrigan and Sayre,
1
we can better conceptualize modernity
as an emerging, conflicting, and contradictory process. Elements commonly
associated with modernity, like the rationality of bureaucratic organization
ora polirical ideology of "public welfare," can be traced back to the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries. Foucault, for example, underscored that it was
precisely during this period that "the state" became a meaningful concept,
understood asan independent entity born out of dynastic rule but significantly
different from it, with its own logic and governmental rationality.
4
Bourdieu,
in his exploration into the roots of modern experience, looked at the jostling
between rhe emerging "state nobility" (i.e., bureaucrats) and the old guard,
holding dynastic privilege, during state-making's early stages and suggested
that this conflict accounted for ideological changes both accompanying and
spurring the autonomy of state institutions. The "state nobility," he argued,
working against the hegemony of dynastic power, developed a special
vocabulary to frame its version of political moraliry and imagination: a theory
of special interest couched in a "universal"language of "the public good" and
"the public weal." Bourdieu saw the growing legitimacy of state institutions as
part of an emerging "habitus," or implicit knowledge, framing an expanding
common sense of the world.-'
2
Hann_ah Arendt, Tbe Origins of Totalitarianism (New York: Harcourt Brace and
Jovanov1ch, 19731 ix.

Philip and Derek Sayre, The Great Arch: English State Formation as
Cultu_ra/ Revolutron (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 19851.
4
i_n Burchell, Colin Gordon, and Peter Miller, eds., The
Foucau/t f.((ect:_ .ltudres m Governmentality (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 19911 87- 104
S. Plerre BourdJeu, Practica/ Reason (Stanford: Stanford UP, 1998).
HERESIES ANO COLONIAL GEOPOL!T!CS
Most theorists of origins, however, do not recognize
that Western state-r:nakmg, tts basic st.ructures and epistemologies
of rule, was honed m the
6
Htstory shows rhar in E urape,
colonialism and were colonialism was an integral part
of early srate-makmg, JUSI as the emergmg ideologies of nation narionhood
and belonging out of. An inquir;
into Europe s first wave of tmpenal expansiOn clanfies the ways rhat a sense
of "nationhood" could be rooted in colonial processes-processes rhat
simultaneously made "rulers" into "nacional" representatives and privileged,
colonizing subjects. We see how nation, ethnicity, religious profession,
economic privilege, and political dominance could merge, splinter, and ossify
into something that we now identify as "race."
This article uses records from religious institutions--campaigns to extirpa te
idolarries and rhe Lima office of rhe Spanish lnquisirion (rhe mosr centralized
and global bureaucracy of irs day)-to tease out heresy's conrriburions ro rhe
race-thinking blueprinrs of modern geopolirics.
7
We focus on modernity's
force as ir bumped up againsr and engaged "premodern" srructures and
experience, and, admittedly, we do so ar rhe risk of underplaying rhe pulls
of premodern formarions. This analysis is a beginning, wirh rhe hopes of
contributing to a more complexified picture of our modero times.
Evangelizing Sermons and the Heresies of History
The obligarion ro oversee rhe religious beliefs and pracrices of narive peoples
fell ro rhe diocesan bishops, and in rhe sevenreenrh cenrury, doctrineros.
Doctrineros were responsible for reinforcing rheir charges' newly acquired
Chrisrianiry and dissuading them from sinning as idolarors-rhe converted
who returned ro rhe pagan religion of rheir forefarhers. To berrer teach
and persuade, doctrineros carried sample sermons, written in Quechua
and Spanish, ro rhe Andean counrryside. Like most homilies, the sermons
written by Francisco de Avila and Fernando de Avendano were directed at
orhers bur spoke reams abour themselves and abour their grasp of rhe earlv
modern world-in-the-making. The sermons record how Spaniards went about
presenting a religion that rhey believed would ulrimarely persuade native hearrs
and souls. They also give us a rare, articulare view of the initial meanings
6. One exception is Ftrnando Coronil. See his hrilliant ess.1y "lkyond
Towards Nonlmperial, Geohisturical Categories," Cultur.JI A.rrthrop)/og'")' 11.1 ( 1
51-87.
7
The lnquisition was not alloweJ to rhc religums hdids .mJ lll
native peoples.
66
IRENE Su.VERBLATI
companion ideologies of "race-rhinking" and "civilizing"-at the heart of
modern experiem.:e . 1
Arendt believed that colonialism's governmg pnnCJp es -;ere launched by
nineteenth-cenrury imperialism, but, as 1 argued, Arendt s
off bv two Beginning in rhe late Spam s cutttng-
edge bureaucrats were installing civi_lization-defined by and mseparable from
Catholicism-along with race-thmkmg deSigns throughoutits wtdely dtspersed
colonies. lf we take the first wave of the European emptre as the origin 0
modernitv, we ha ve a better grasp of the weight of rehgwus orthodoxy-that
is, rhe weight of religious heresy-in rhe construction of very modern conceprs
of "civilization .. and "race."
Placing modernity's roots in the is and
conceprualizing rhe lnquisition as one of tts vanguard mstitutwns IS perhaps
even more so. But if we understand the making of the modern world as a "Great
Arch," as do Corrigan and Sayre,
1
we can better conceptualize modernity
as an emerging, contlicting, and contradictory process. Elements commonly
associared wirh modernity, like the rationality of bureaucratic organization
ora political ideology of"public welfare," can be traced back to the sixteenth
and sevenreenth centuries. Foucault, for example, underscored that it was
precisely during this period that "the state" became a meaningful concept,
understood asan independent entity born out of dynastic rule but significantly
different from it, with its own logic and governmental rationality.
4
Bourdieu,
in his exploration into the roots of modern experience, looked at the jostling
between the emerging "state nobility" (i.e., bureaucrats) and the old guard,
holding dynastic privilege, during state-making's early stages and suggested
that this conflict accounted for ideological changes both accompanying and
the of state institutions. The "state nobility," he argued,
workmg agamst the hegemony of dynastic power, developed a special
vocabulary to frame its version of political morality and imagination: a theory
spwal mterest couched in a "universal" language of "the public good" and
the pubhc Bourdieu saw the growing legitimacy of state institutions as
part of an emergmg "habitus," or implicit knowledge, framing an expanding
common sen se of the world. s
l. Hannah Arendt The 0 f r, f
jovanovich,
1973
) ix. r1gms
0
ota ltarianism (New York: Harcourt Brace and
3. Philip Cumgan and Derek S Th , .
Cultural Revolutu n (() f d B a_yre, e Great Arch: f.nglish State Formatw
' x or : ., Blackwell 1985)
4. Mchel fou<.:ault in Graham 8 '. . .
foucault 11/ect: .\tudies in Gov urchell,. Gordon, and Peter Miller, eds., The
). l'ierre Rourdieu Pra
1
l R ernmentalJty (Ch1cago: U of Chicago P, 1991) 87-104.
' e lea eason (Stanford: Stanford UP, 1998).
HERESIES AND COLONIAL GEOPOLITICS
Most rheorists of the modero state's origins, however, do not recognize
rhat Western state-r:naking, its basic structures and epistemologies
of rule, was honed m the process.
6
History shows rhat in Europe,
colonialism and state-makmg were entwined: colonialism was an integral part
of early state-making, justas the emerging ideologies of nation, nationhood,
and national belonging were born out of colonial endeavors. An inquiry
into Europe's first wave of imperial expansion clarifies the ways that a sense
of "nationhood" could be rooted in colonial processes-processes that
simultaneously made "rulers" into "national" representatives and privileged,
colonizing subjects. We see how nation, ethnicity, religious profession,
economic privilege, and political dominance could merge, splinter, and ossify
into something that we now identify as "race."
This article uses records from religious to extirpare
idolatries and the Lima office of the Spanish lnquisition (the most centralized
and global bureaucracy of its day)-to tease out heresy's contributions to the
race-thinking blueprints of modern geopolitics.
7
We focus on modernity's
force as it bumped up against and engaged "premodern" structures and
experience, and, admittedly, we do so at the risk of underplaying the pulls
of premodern formations. This analysis is a beginning, with the hopes of
contributing toa more complexified picture of our modero times.
Evangelizing Sermons and the Heresies of History
The obligation to oversee the religious beliefs and practices of na ti ve peoples
fell to the diocesan bishops, and in the seventeenth century, doctrineros.
Doctrineros were responsible for reinforcing their charges newly acquired
Christianity and dissuading them from sinning as idolators-the converted
who returned to the pagan religion of their forefathers. To better teach
and persuade, doctrineros carried sample sermons, written in Quechua
and Spanish, to the Andean countryside. Like most homilies, the sermons
written by Francisco de Avila and Fernando de Avendano were directed at
others but spoke reams about themselves and about their grasp of the early
modero world-in-the-making. The sermons record how Spaniards went about
presenting a religion that they believed would ultimately persuade native hearts
and souls. They also give us a rare, articulare view of the initial meanings
6. One t'Xl:eption is fernando Cornnil. See his hrilliant essay .. Bt:yond
Towards Non-Imperial, CategonC's," Cultur11l 11.1 ( 19%):
.11-K?.
7 The lnquisition was not allowed to oversee the rdigious hc.-ht"ls .md pri""tl"-"('S uf
native peoples.
IRENE StLVERBLATI
68
. . . -wavs of etching racialized attributes onto differences of
ot race-thmkmg .. - ossibilirv and geography."
. .
1
e< econom1c P ' 1 d A d
pohuca pow ' ad a lot of explaining ro do: Avt a an ven ano not only
Prose.lvuzers h S . h : rories but also had ro account for the drama tic
d
-- 1 tor pams m
ha ro acwun h rhat colonialism wrought. They had ro accounr
01
h
lite's e ances .
e anges
111
. hl d rarions Andeans suffered: the destruct1on of their
h mmagma e evas . 1 .
1
e u . . h
1
es
0
death rhat reduced na uve popu anons to one-tenrh
commumnes,t ep agu . . d d . fU .
of their size before the conquest, and the mststent egra atton o .' e ttself.
Doctrineros also had 10 explain the d1fferent colores of human bemgs now
nident ro Andeans; moreover, rhey had ro jusnfy the enormous dtfferences in
functions, possibilities, and life chances that these colores appeared to entatl.
In orher words, doctrineros had ro vtndtcate conquest and Catholtctsm.
They justified their missions, to rhe unenlightened and ro themselves, through
a vision of humanitv that was pervaded by "the heretical." Churchmen had
ro explain why Chrisrianiry (as opposed to Inca religion) would not tolerare
any trace of indigenous beliefs and why native religion and its practitioners
were so thoroughly condemned. Priests had to account for why appeals to
"the heretical" could justify such extraordinary sufferings, why "the heretical"
could underwrite a new political order in which Andeans (colorados) were
subservient ro white Christian Spaniards.
The intertwined religious-political tasks of evangelizing pushed priests to
think broadly and historically. Avendano and Avila went back centuries and
they traveled the world: they turned to the history of Rome and of Spain, to
rhe h1Story of Jews and of Moors, and to the history of the perfidious English,
as well asto the_ h1story of the Incas. Doctrineros constructed a world history
of heresy, bur wnh a new twist: "the heretical" was joined with race-thinking.
To g
1
1
ve the Incas' descendants a place in the new, transnational world order,
evange 1sts had to account f th 1 h
d

1
or e new soc1a categones of colomal rule: t e
1 erent co ores of huma b d h . .
history d
1
.
1
, d . n emgs an t e tntncate tie between colores, world
an 1 es estmy In oth d h 1
global social relat h. er wor s, t ey had to articulare the nove ,
lons-t ose of em h d
so changed Andea l'f A .
1
pire, na non, and race-thinking-that a
n 1 e. VI aandAvend ' h h b
of the early moder anos omt tes present ow mem ers
n e lle grasped th 1 d
nation; how they tum d
1
e entang ements of "race " religion, an
b
e to ong-stand d' '
ehef to account for r .
1
. mg tsputes over innate character versus
ltlca dtfferences; and how the notion of "stained
a penmsular visio h
as u was transponed to th A . n eresy-acquired new meamngs
e Evangelists proceeded to paint modern
8. dt Avcnd
. l.Jma Jo L ano, Sermones de los . . .
et
1
a f ' rge. Opez de Herrera
648
. F "'_lsterros de nuestra santa fe cato/ICa
nge
105
Lma, Comenjado, }
648
. ' rancJsco de Avila (Davila), Tratado de los
HERESIES ANO COLONIAL GEOPOLITICS
world history, and they did so with the brush of race-thinking, tinted by the
hues of heresy.
Hierarchies and Colors
One of Avila and Avendano's tasks in Peru was to turn O Id World wisd
about primordial divisions ofclass into lessons of colonial cultural
they had to revamp the old h1erarchy of Europe-that is, between rich and
poor, governors and governed-to contain the new, modern hierarchies of
colonialism and nation. Sermons had to explain why differences of wealth and
power were structured and experienced in coloniaVracialized form: According
to their calculus, blacks were the principal example of God-creared servants,
born ro "serve ... or learn trades, or work or plant fields," while lndians were
"drafted to work in rhe mines ... " since God, they conrinued, "[had[ created
sorne men to be kings .. and rule over others." Spaniards, of course, were
rhe kings and the rulers.'
This modern vision, however, collided with another of God's rules-rhar
human beings shared one origin. Native Andeans held rhe blasphemous belief
that Indians and Spaniards-with clear differences in appearance and skin
color-were descended from different gods. To make his case, Avila had ro
account for what narives perceived ro be two gaping contradictions in terms:
rhat progenitors of one color could produce offspring of differem colors and,
specifically, rhat whire Adam and whire E ve (of course) could ha ve begotren rhe
world's multicolored peoples. Evangelists responded by turning ro examples
that native Andeans would find very familiar, that is, that whire guinea pigs
produced litters with black, brown, and white offspring.
10
So, Avila concluded,
when it carne to skin color, human beings underwenr the same process as
sorne of Peru's most important indigenous planrs and animals: "Likewise, in
this way, our first fathers . {were] white, and rheir descendants, sorne are
brown, others black and others white."
11
But how to explain rhe degenerarion
from white to brown and black? This is where the lessons of he res y come
in-a particular kind of heresy whose consequences are passed Jown from
generation to generation.
Avila and Avendano plumbed history-particularly rhe rorturou; evenrs
linking Spain with moros (literally, "Moors") and Jcws-tor lessons ot
relevance to their Andean mission. Moros and Jews were the heretKs h.1d
perplexed Iberia from the late fifteenth century on, and preachers rurned rhese
9. Avendano 1, f.71v-72.
10. Avila 1, 297.
11. Avila l. 479.
(RENE StLVERBLATf
. . h h'swry into cautionary tales about fidelit
f m Spams
1
1 d h y
ha
rrowin.g.pag<> ro . N ly a guide to re tgwus estmy, owever th
acv ot on d . f h ' e
and Chnsnan suprem .'. 1 beca me a moral eSign or t e complexitie
history oi th<. reconquJSIJ. a so reed stipulating race and descent, religion'
uf mudern lite: m a e '
achievement, and nanon. Avila andA venda no often lumped moros and
h
h JI and bnmstone. .
1
First, 1 e e . . s wrinen
10
explam the onto ogy and specificities
. d. ther m thw sermon . f d .
t "''roge
1
. re singled out as the 1cons o epravity, for they
f . J ws and Mus ,ms we 11 . h . .
o sm. e . d h t damning heresy of a -renouncmg C fiStlanity
h dcommltte t emos h b '
a . k h true God. Moros and Jews, t en, ecame the clarion
afrer havmg nown t e 1 h
ex<m lar for Peru's native idolators: "He who does not ove t e God of the
'h . P JI go ro heJI ... and that is why 1dolators wiii go to hell, liust
C nstlans ... Wl ,11
likeJ those who are caJied Moors, and the Jews. .
In spite of their status as the most desp1cable heretiCS of all, moros and
udios held different positions in the lex1cons of heresy and offered separare
lessons ior wayward Andeans. The Ottomans were a pohncal force to be
reckoned with, while Jews were not, and this helps explain the different fates
of Jewish and Muslim conversos in Spanish heretical politics. When Jews and
Moors were first expeJied from Iberia at the end of the fifteenth century, their
converted, baptized descendants were allowed to remain-so long as they
stayed true to Christianity. Because of what were determined to be innate
character deficiencies, those of Jewish ancestry were stereotyped as closet
heretics, and peninsular regulations barred them from certain offices and
professions; nonetheless, they were allowed to rema in in Spanish territory.
However, Casnle and the Ottomans were arch political rivals, battling for
dom' Ion over the Mediterranean. Spanish authorities carne to believe that
momws (Christians f M f
h
1
.
0
us '"' ancestry) were too dangerous ro be parto
t e rea m, and
10
a fit of "ethnic cleansing" they exiled everyone of Moorish
anmtry-regardless uf 1' . b f . .
P
rincipie h h
1
re lglous e " -m 1609. Doctrineros echoed thiS
w en t ey umped t h
(ttoman!,)
10
th . oget er moros (Moors), moriscos, and turcos
CIT sermons
Moorish descent and .
the icon of hercs) A d were so lntertwined that "moro" became
A
n n ean Clrcles d 1"
vendano made lev f . an a synonym for "heresy in genera
'eruseorh 1' . . . .
Introduce lndians to th h IS IngUIS!Ic lt1 a homiiy deSigned to
\p . . ose ot er "mo " lh . .

1
..
1
ros erellcs), equally menacmg to
thar 1 d. po 1t1ca ase d
b n lans were aware ofth p en ancy. Avendano wanted to be su re
Y sea to rob lus ... ,, 1 ed rntestanr English-"those lhereticsi who come
tradeh r needtheF l'h h
' att mg Spain for cont '
15
moros were harrying Spams
ro over ter
1

---- " ory In the Caribbean, and harasSin
ll. Avila \, 111.
ll
HERESIEs ANo CoLONIAL GEorouncs
7I
settlements along the Pacilic coast. Moors (or turcos) were one political bane
of Castile's existence, and Protestant England was another. Avendano's sermon
had transformed a world-history lesson, the story of "Moorish perlidy," into
a lesson in current Peruv1an geopolitics. Homilies made it clear rhat political
enmities, delined through religious wars, brought their accoutrements ro rhe
NewWorld.
Jews, however, played a different role in the morality tales transponed ro
Peru, and that was beca use the Jewish experience-a once mighty political
power that devolved into a stateless, ill-fated people-was cast as history's
exemplar for !odian missteps and !odian misfortunes. Jews, like Jndians,
refused to accept God's word, and both bore-in Avila and Avendano's world
history-the terrible outcomes. According to sermon: God, out of profound
love for humanity, had sent messengers to Jerusalem and ro the Andes. To rhe
one he senr jesus; ro rhe orher, Spaniards. But neirher Jews nor Andeans would
accepr God's word: Jews refused ro believe in Christ's divinity; Andeans, in
like fashion, or so Avendano claimed, were rerurning ro rhe idolarry of their
ancestors.
Don't you see how rhese Jews condemned rhemselves? . And
forty years after Uesus's crucilixion], the Romans carne with
countless armed meo and demolished Uerusalem ], destroying ir
all, and burning clown the temple and killing everyone. . . Look
how God lets nothing [sinful] transpire without punishmenr ....
and now we will speak a bit about your land and your
ancestors and your kings, the Incas . [During their reign) the
entire land was boiling in sin, principally idolatry and God
wanted to enlighten the land . and just as God sent Captain
Ti tus from Rome to Jerusalem ... he sent Francisco Pizarra ... and
then more Spaniards went to Cusco and they destroyed rhe temple
where the Incas worshipped . and toda y there is no lon11er the
[quantity of] Indians that there used to be; the towns are desolare;
the homes are falling apart . don't you reco11nize you had the
same [fa te] as the Jews?
14
However, there was an additional dimension to the .. rhr_
jewish problem" in Peru, like the .. lndian prohlem," wJs also ;.t srory nt
the seventeenth century. Not convinced of rhe loyalty ot .fl!'wlsh contt'n;os.
lnquisitors in seventeenth-century Peru were hunting clown
of Jewish ancestry whom they felt were secrerly Judaosm. Smlarly.
extirpators of idolatry were hunting down men and women ot llh.hgttwus
14. Avila 11.
IRENE SJLVERBLATI
tly practicing idolatry. Thus, contemporary
ancesrrv whom rher felr were secreson-as well as the link-between lndians
. ade rhe campan JI'
Spanish hJsror} mh more intimare, urgent, and mg. . .
and Jews rhar mue . communities perce1ved theu efforts m JighJ
. . nt ro m Jgenous . 1 h
MisSJonanes se . h'srory-understandmg ear y C urch strategies
ltuous re g!OuS
1
ofSpamsrumu .. .
1
and especially later attempts to convert Moors
t
"pagan gentl es, . Wh " .
ro conver
1
f ntures in rhe Amencas. en exttrpators of
d J
as rehearsa s or ve b .
an ews- d h . s
1

00
in Peru rhey were sobered y theu apparently
'd 1 "assesse t eumls ' 1 .
1 0
arry . campaigns in Spain and the e o omes. Hence the
unsuccessful evange 1zmg 1
uesrion: How ro explain rhe persistent treachery? How to exp a m why the
lndians, Jike irs)ews and Moors, refused to abandon theJt
fairh? The answer: lndians, Jike Jews and Moors, carned stamed blood.
Stained Blood
Toward rhe end of rhe fifteenrh cenrury, befo re the conquest of the Americas,
sorne members of rhe peninsular political and religious elite reached a
rheological determinaran that was to have extraordinary consequences: the
evils of religious perfidy were not erased by baptism. Baptism used to mark a
cleansed religious slate, but no more. Rather, heretical ancestry had the force
ro pollure, ro stain, the blood, and such pollutions were passed clown through
generations. Since stained blood was, by definition, sullied by questionable
and deficiem character, the ideologies of stain forcefully linked heresy and
political treachery. Municipal councils, churchmen, university deacons, and
royal authorities passed "purity of blood" laws in an attempt ro squash the
dangers thaJ stamed blood mighr render to the kingdom's arder and well-
bemg. Thus, officially (but not always in practice), descendants of Jews and
from attending university, entering the professions,
oAr
0
mg pobucal office." "Stained" blood was carried from Spain to the
meneas, and m the proce . . f d h . . . .
rh d ' . ss, 1t
10
use t e tn-part political and racial diVISJOn
ar rame co omal government.
Skm color carried stains D 1
aurhoriries and no d b octrrneros, along with other churchmen, roya
mdiOs and 'negros weou ti segmdents of the less powerful, firmly believed that
h b
. re P ague by a burd h h f 1
a ns of the ancestor h h b. en o e u tu re m entance: t e sm u
we1ghed heavily in e a
115
rhat made rhem into persistent idolarors-

1
f e presenr. Again h d' . . h'
ev o their parems") A .
1
'w at me tum was transmittmg t !S
hlood."" .lanKre manch ;' ir up with these words: "their stained
-
a o, ' e the descendants of Moors and Jews. Sangre
1 Juan de Solon.ano p
hpanole J 1 b
11
erelra, Polit1ca Ind

6
A .
1
' Cap.xx1x, 437-18 lana (Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores
VI a J, f.27!(_7
9
.
HERESIES AND COLONIAL GEOPOLITICS
73
manchado, a curse to the "New Christians" of Europe (descendants of Jews
and Moors) and a curse to lnd1ans and Blacks, the "New Christians" of the
colonial world.
Could New Christians Be Good Christians?
Iberia faced a dilemma in the fifteenth century: Could New Christians be
good Christians? Spanish jurists and theologians sparred seriously over the
New Christian character and the inheritability of stains produced by heresy.
Ultimately, the powers that be dec1ded no and institutionalized the "purity of
blood" laws that prohibited descendants of Jews and Moors from entering
public life. Spanish conquest, however, brought added complications ro these
debates about ancestry and faith. For with colonization, Spaniards were
channeling pagan narives in ro rhar same, "New Christian" state of being,
and the demands of colonialism triggered fresh challenges to older peninsular
disputes. Could the long, transgenerational reach of sinning tarnish rhe
religious capabiliries of every novice, or did ir affecr only cerrain ones? Or did
ir affecr certain ones in different degrees? So, now, tied to the big question-
could New Christians ever be good Christians?-we find the colonial seque!:
Were all New Christians alike?
Colonial pundits had different answers ro the question of New Christian
stains and, consequently, of the official possibilities of New Christians in Peru.
Alonso de la Pea Monrenegro, aurhor of a manual for missionary priesrs, was
of two minds regarding the question of whether ancestry affected the talents
and characrer of colonial New Chrisrians. In Iberia, where were
unquestionably usrained," ir was rhe stare's responsibility ro stop descendants
of Jews and Moors from holding public office. Peru's blacks and Indians also
carried polluted blood, but, given the necessities of colonial politicallife, Peru"s
Indians would ha ve ro participare in governance. How would pollutions affecr
their behavior in the realm of colonial politics? And whar abour religious life?
Could competent Indians and blacks be shut out of a religious calling because
of impure blood? Were they capable of preaching anywhere and ro anybody.
or should their efforrs be resrricred ro people of their same casta y generado"?
Pea was nor sure. Missionaries senr ro evangelize Andean natives could
hardly avoid rhese "race" matters, and Pea's guidebook for
casrs a relling lighr
00
how Peru's governing class made sense out ot rhe
irrationalities of race and peninsular versions of heresies.
Pea comhed rhe exisring lirerature-the mounring royal papal
decrees, and legal compilarions. But his findings were. amh1guous Jnd
parricularly telling in relation ro religious issues. First ot all, _held
varied opinions, and rheir judgments ahnut "srains"-stains denved trom
lndian hlood, black blood (enslaved and free), and mixrd blooJ-suppomd
IRENE SILVERBLATI
74 1 .
S
ting through this theo ogical chaos, Pea . h
f
h debate. or d 1 (" h Ch ' wu
both sides o t e . 'd d with the un ere asses t e urch of G
b
leamngs, SI e . d . od
his pro-a 11t)' . e who is apt, vJrtuous, an appropnate With
1
1 dmitsevervon f f. h . h b ' OUt
... regu ar Y a . l d blacks] do not or e1t t e ng t to e ordained
exceprion"; "indlans an d nature").l7 Men of all colonial background
00
f thelf ongm an . h d . . s-
account o d --could en ter the pnest oo , m h1s judgrne
. . dios an negros h h nt,
mest1zos, m ' h Church's standards: t at t ey were competen and
as long as thbely mettl eand upright and legitimare.
k wledgea e, mora ' . d bl
no . d eudice however, was an unavm a e presence and
Peru's race-nnge pr ' f bl k Id b '
_ f d dmit that the ordmatwn o ac s wou rmg added
Pena was orce toa . . 1 . 1 k'
l
. . lonial realmes. The co oma caste system ma mg negros
comp canons ro co f 11 .
into slaves posed a panicular set of problems: first o a , Spamards conS!dered
slavery
10
be a venal, indecent, condttton; second, the slave was
subject ro his master's will and, m pnnCJple, could be stopped from carrying
out his spiritual duties. But the really vexmg ISsue was the awkwardness of
color in a color-conscious world: Could blacks, at the lowest rung m colonial
socierv minister ro whites, at the highest rung? Sorne experts argued that blacks
should' not, "because it would cause great horror to see a Black person step
ro the altar ro say mass for "naciones blancas" (literally, "white peoples").
18
Pea assured us that other authorities, "very weighty ones" at that, claimed
the opposite: "Negros should become priests without hindrance," because
"in these parrs where there are so many [blacks ], with sorne holding the rank
of Captain and other military offices, Ja Black priest] would not cause any
revulsion"; why sorne blacks, he added, "ha ve even inspired great devotion."
19
ThiS bemg s31d, Pea had to acknowledge he was on weak ground: he found
much support in royal decrees, in ecclesiastic orders or among the experts
for Afncans or their descendants to go out into the wo;ld and preach.10
D1d blacks and India h Id .
d 1 d
. . ns o equa y amb1guous positions? Were black stams
an n 1an stams of the k> p h d
rhe dile . b '."'"e
1
ena t ought they were not. He propase
mma. etween a rnulat " d " d . .
the countrysd ) p ,
0
an a mestizo," who shoul mtmster to
"mularo" bl' ed. ena was "mestizo." E ven though both were polluted,
00
'n Penas word "h d . . h
fea").l
1
Sob\ k s, a an ugher stam" ("una mane a mas
h . ac was rnore degen h . 1
m ernance into a col .
1
erate t an Ind1an. Pea had turned hereuca
A'i th oma scale of race
b . e 'ieventeenth centur .
uld ever-more-prec Y progressed, state officials attempted
10
Ise categoncal boxes to place their ever-more racially

17. Aloo\OdelaPeaMn
las mater1Js.. l . "
1H. Pea 1 l71)... yon, hance Joa A Haro Para parochns de Indios, en que se tratu
. 71. 'n. ugeranJ678f3
IY. Peai.J
7
1)..
71
' , . 68-69.
20. Pea 1 .. 170. .
21. Pea f..l7o.
subjects. Accused heretics of all stripes found that admitting
"stam was not enough: New. Chnstlans and mestizos and mulatos had to
declare exactly how much stam flowed in their blood. They had ro become
fluent in racefractions.
The world has witnessed various solutions to rhe conundrum of "mixed
race," and Spain devised a different one for each of its race problems-
the colonial problem and the Old Christian!Iberian problem. lnquisitors
followed somethmg hke the onedrop rule in their dealings with conversos:
New Christians, in the end, remained New Christians, regardless of their O Id
Christian forebears. 1t didn't matter if an accused Judaizer had three Old
Christian ancestors or none; he was equally subject ro the damnations of
stained blood. Bureaucrats carne up with a more subtle solurion, however,
to the colonial order's racial paradox: subcategories based on percentages of
tainted blood (mestizos, quadroons, octoroons), inscribing "percentages" into
the identities-into the bodies-of colonial prisoners.
Pea's manual outlines a templare of possible outcomes ro these dilemmas of
race, faith, and ability. How and if his arguments were used to direct decision
making in specific cases; how and if they shaped the lived experience of colonial
women and men-that's another question. At the least, his words took on life
in the ideological clima te of the times. Did they help precipitare the ordination
of New Christian "indios" and "negros"?-perhaps.
22
Nevertheless, Pea's
abstracted ideal of colonial racial equality-with pulpits open to qualified men
regardless of casta y generacion (women are not discussed)-remained, for rhe
most part, an ideal. Notable exceptions? Perhaps a few of the Viceroyalty's well
placed, educated, up-and-coming New Christian aristocracy.H
by the seventeenth century, whether cut in parcels or in whole-clmh, race-
thinking, couched in the stains of heresy, had grabbed Peruvian imaginations.
Alternate Understandings: Some Basic Agreements
Although Peruvians-across caste and class-appeared ro increasingly see
the world in terms of race-based looks and fractures, Iberian New Chrisri.ms
and native New Christians had their own ideas ahout the signiticance of race
and heresy, the rneaning of"New Christian," and what ir would uke ro
an "Oid Christian." Perhaps not surprisingly, rhey agreed on a few bastes:
for one the children of New Christians were Old Christians. Hrrnan Jor:r,
asked categorize his ancestry, claimed his parents "were
descendanrs of jews," hut that he, on the contrary, was a "bapr1zed t.hnsnan
21. See Kathryn Burns, Colomal Hahrts: Co rr-nts an,i SpmtN.Jl of
Cuuo, P(ru (Durham: Duke \JP, 1999).
23. The Lopez de l.ishoa family comes ro minJ.
IRENE SILVERBLATT
. . ,
24
Guaman Poma de Ayala, the Andean nobleman and
.... an Old Chnsnan. d . hs understanding: "the chddren of baptized
. f h e wn share 10 t 1 .
ro !d Christians.25 New Christians, Guaman Poma satd, were
Chnsnans were O d p "indios" and "negros.""
. h rly con verte , eru s
ust that: t e recen d H Jorge would ha ve agreed, as well, that to be
G Poma an ernan . b
uaman . . h faithful worship Chmt, and e a member of the
Christian meant to JOIO t e ' h . f b r f
hin ood standing. Christianity, for bot , was a questton ? e te and
Churc . g h d being a New Christian meant not holdmg heretical
m ot er wor s, . . F . h d
norions 'and not participating in hereucal pracuces. counte ; heresy
drew the line-not ancestral heresies. With that understandmg, Guaman Poma
berated Spaniards for not behaving in Chnsnan fash1on and made hJS case
rhar in Peru, Indians, newly converted to Chrisr's were Christians
than Spaniards ("(greedy Spaniards] say that Ind1ans are barbanans and not
Christian. It is the opposite ."
27
). He also remmded Spamards that there
was a time when they, like Indians, had been ignorant of Christ's ways, and
that Andeans, like Spaniards, were Christian by desire and learning, and not
by any calculus of ancestral virtue.
28
Iberian New Christians echoed these
sentiments, pointing out, in moving testimony, that there were "conversos"
who worshiped Christ with a passion not always matched by O Id Christians.
Sorne even argued that these New Christians were better Christians, or at least
more honorable Christians, than O Id Christians.
29
Na ti ve New Christians and
Iberian New Christians agreed that membership and life-possibilities in the
Catholic Spanish Realms should be built on ability and will, not on ancestry.
Nonetheless, they held different opinions regarding which social category was
ro receive a reprieve from the burden of stains.
Guaman Poma-like many of his Iberian New Christian peers-was at
odds wnh h1mself when it carne to questions of belief and culture race and
.. narion." Guaman Poma insisted that faith was a question of actio'n and not
of ancestry. Yet, he shared the Inquisitors' skepticism about the true faith of
lbena\ New Christians. Guaman Poma strongly believed in Christianity's
bedrock equahty I"Christ died for everyone, whether Moor,Jew, Black ... ").10
Yet, he seemed reluctant to consider that Jews' and Moors' descendants could

), lnq, lib 1028, f.422-422v.
. a e yaaEPrimer b 51
Critica\ edi11on by John Murra and 'Rol nueva y u en gobterno 116_1 ,
Quechua by J. Uroste
3
vol (M ena Ado_rno, translauon and textual analys1s of
26. Guaman Poma IJJ. s. exco, D.F.: Siglo XXI, 1980) 617.
27. c;uaman Poma 86.1; \te also 871
2H. (;uaman Poma 882 .
29. AHN, lnq, l.ih JOJ f
167
. .
.lO. Guaman Poma HN:7' -,lnq, Llb lOlt, f.160, IH6.
HERESIES AND COLONIAL GEOPOLITICS
77
be Christians, roo. In long ro the Crown, Guaman Poma never
a past and present; he never talked about
New Chnsnans Portuguese (a near synonym for New Christians of
Jewish ancestry)-ust about Jews and Moors.
31
Only natives were given th
benefit of belief. So, while Guaman Poma wrote pages and pages dem d. e
f
. p. b"dd anmg
that rhe faith o nanve eruv1ans. e u ge by their actions and rheir beliefs,
he froze Iberian New Chnsnans m the fa1th of their ancestors.
Conversos, unlike Andeans, questioned colonial hierarchies; they never
challenged a hierarchy of rac1ahzed castes that put espanoles on top. What
rhey did severely resent was the Inquisitorial bent ro racialize Spanishness
into Old Christian purity, to reserve authentic "Spanish" standing for meo
and women whose ancestors (at least as far as they would admit) had never
engaged in Jewish or Islamic heresies.
Espanoles, Porluguese, and Heretical Blueprints for Colony and Nation
"Espanol," one of the categories of colonial social relations, was wedded
ro "espanol," the symbol of a potential nation in the emerging modero world.
Unpacking the dialectic of "espanol's" meanings helps us understand rhe
ambiguities at the heart of colonial modernity. The Inquisirion, arbiter of
purity of blood and arbiter of ancestral heresies, was a key designer of rhese
heretical blueprints of colony and narion.
From its earliest years in Peru, the lnquisition tracked men and women for
secrerly practicingjudaism. The year 1635 was momentous in tribunal history;
ir marked the beginning of a parricularly virulent four-year campaign againsr
conversos. This dragnet was aimed at the so-called complicidad grande oi
women and men of Jewish ancestry who were accused of conspiring wirh both
foreign enemies (i.e., rhe Durch) and potential enemies within (i.e., indios and
negros) ro destroy the Spanish empire. The complicidad grande triggered the
tribunal's largest roundup of accused heretics-nearly 100 were arraigned-
and resulred in Lima's largesr auro-da-f, held in 1639, thar punished over
sixty and sent eleven ro the stake.
Accused Judaizers criticized Inquisirors for pracricing a kind ot ..
profiling, based on vicious stereotypes, in rheir efforrs to uncove-r
"trurh." The lnquisitors' charges, rhey argued, played on stock assumpuons:
that New Christians were Portuguese ( .. was otren used Js J
synonym for "New Christian" beca use many practicing Jews fleJ ro
when Judaism was hanned in Spain--only ro later finJ Judaism hanned
0
':
the Portuguese lnquisition), that New Chrisri.ms were all Jews, thar
Christians would inherently make common cJuse. and thJt the me-rr tJ"'t ot
ll. C;uaman PonM421. 908.
d
ancestry" would compel New Christia
e "cJste an ns to
heing trom the sam . .

1
re"
1
.
100
dern and tmpartial state servants
. , hemse ves as . . and
lnuiSitors sa" t misperceptwns of the da y. MagiStrates did '
" . thecommon , h b h no
"wrdmgly,a .. we d ded hv stereotypes, or caug t y t em.lnquisito
t '" " d h H R "
w.wrro appear .. o d d lw rhe suggesrwn ma e y . ernan odnguez, an
wer< deeply otlen ' tad that the tnbunal was condernn
nrhecomp<CI< d'd d.
"'"sed her<tl
1
ut of hand: "What 1 Ro nguez mean b
h
.. ns/PoriUguese o l'k ')""N y
New C nsna . h' k 11 PoriUguese are a 1 e . evertheless, in sp
. . jlnquiSIIOtsl r m a . . f .d , . <te
... . d l
11

005
of the 1mportance o ev1 ence, mag1strat
. 11 h h ndenng ecara f f es
ot a . r e t u d N Christian ancestry into proo o Portuguese heresies
constsrenth ma e ew .
. h and jewish rebelhon.
ot rreac ery t pe however, New Chrisrians/Portuguese were
1101
Conrrar\' ro stereo } ' f .
.'.
1
sorne leve!) knew this and so, o course, d1d the accused
one. lnqmsnors on . . d h . .
Judaizers. Wimesses in the compliCidad grande apene up t e juda<zmg/New
Christian box for inspection and revealed that cmzversos carne m d1fferent
stripes. Sorne were Judaizers, orhers were nor; sorne were wealthy, others were
nor; sorne were merchants, others were not; sorne were Portuguese, others
were not; sorne Portuguese were O id Christians, while others were not.
Sorne New Christian/Portuguese were even accepted by powerful Old
Christian elite. Accused judaizers in the complicidad grande challenged
Slereotyping when they poinred out a well-known reality: in Peru and throughout
rhe empire, Portuguese had anained the highest (and noblest) positions in
the Spanish court. Portuguese had been conducted into the brotherhood ol
knighiS in Castile's elite military orders and served as asentistas-the moSI
respected and influential advisors-to the king and council. Why, the Lima
archb<Shop's principal advisor was a well-known New Christian with the las<
name "de Lisboa." Wouldn't these achievements, plus the visible acceptance
of sorne New Christians by court society, prove that Portuguese could be
authentJc Span1ards?l)
State bureaucrats did 1 h d
1
. . . nota ways agree on offiCial defimtwns of person oo
nqu<Sitors,definmgNew Christians as Portuguese, could be at odds with othet
-31. Lener of May 18 1636 . . . .
de l..ima

Jose Tonb1o Medma, Historia del Tribunal del Saii/O
. . Relllcion de la 2 (Santiago: Guten berg, 18 8 7) 4 8-7 6; Fernando de
Append" 1 '" Bo1es1a Le . o de la fe celebrado en Lima a 23 de enero de 16]9,
Hb
0
wmEIS dd
e r;l!ca Argentina, 19SO) anto Oficto en America (Buenos Aires: SoCIC a
H. AHN, 1nq, leg 164
7

1
'
1
nq, Leg 1647, f.263, f.263v, f.299.
H. lee Medma 186-g] . l,f.51.
Juda1zmg for d1scussions f 01d . . d ol
1 s s Chnst1an Portuguese a ce use
. . . te AHN, lnq, Rollo 9, f.l66-78
'AHN, lnq, Lib 1029, f.59-59v.
HERESIES ANo CoLONIAL GEoiouncs
79
srate bureaucrats o ver the essential of nationality. For example, when
rhe Vicero.yalty, strapped fo.r cash, ro .levy a rax on all "foreigners,"
royal had ro deter.mm.e what mcluding "Portuguese," meant.
For taxauon purposes . Ltma s royal aurhor.Ittes determined that nationality
was fixed by place ol JI yo u were born m Portugal, yo u were Portuguese;
if you were m Casule but were a New Christian, you were "espanol."
At the same ume, men and ":omen "nacion blanca," born in Portugal,
were, throughout most of theu colomal Peruvian experience, considered to
be "espanoles." In serrnons laying out the colonial scheme of rhings, A vi la and
Avendano would equate "espanol" to "gente blanca" (including Portuguese)
whenever Spamsh/wh1te was counterposed to the peoples de color (indios and
negros). When the "Portuguese" laithlul died (including those punished by the
Tribunal and then reconciled to the Church), they were buried in the Lima
cemetery designated lor Spaniards.
36
"Espano/," then, could reler to dillerent people at dillerent times and different
people at the same time, yet its various meanings were always colored by rhe
New Christian -= Jew = Portuguese equation of heresy. There were occasions
when "espanol" (in the New World) included those born in Portugal, and
there were occasions when it did not.
37
But in most circumsrances, "espanol"
harbored a banner of nationalism with a racialized-religious twisr, one thar
disavowed any taint of Portuguese or of ancestral heresies.
38
Under this flag,
Spanish birthplace was worth little. lt could never expunge the stink of the
"mala casta blanca" -the white caste whose evil was inherited and whose
destiny was an eternity in hell.
"Espanol" straddled the dual re gimes of colon y and nation: "espanol,"
a category ol the race-thinking hierarchy ol colonial social relations, and
"espanol," the symbol of a potential nation in rhe emerging modern world.
Amid the ambiguous boundaries of colonial moderniries, one boundary
could override al! the fine points ol cultural stains: the line separating
Spaniards from the rest. Both ol Spain's race-thinking designs-as enacted
by the Inquisition-worked to that end. Autos-da-f made that distinction
very public: accused witch-hererics of "pure" Iberian descent were spared the
humiliation of the lash and seminudity, but their sisters de color-regardless
al how little stain mottled their blood-were whipped and paraded through
36. AHN, Inq, Leg 1647, no.ll, f. 129.
37. One example is Luis de Valencia, who was registe red as "espJnoln at h1s Jearh
was taken to rhc cemetery hy Manuel Bautista Perez's widow tAHN,lnq. l.eg lfl4
no.12,f.129). . ..
38. Be wary of the "Hehrew nation," the Suprema its l.'1ma thC')'
are in the ha hit of accusing of engaging mJuda111ng AHN.
lnq, Lih 1031, 1..11).
IRENE StLVERBLATI
. .h
d J
daizers, suffermg gns y pums ments on h
. AccuseU hb d. h te
h
treets of Ltma. . lar lesson m t e oun anes t at separated h
tes bec measpectacu rk h 1 . . . te
auto'sstage, a_ h .. authentic look-a t e-as t e nqmSitwn Work d
rrue" Spaniard trom ISdtn table qualities of ancestry, belief, and cult e
. bJ those un etec h h . ure.
ro make VJSI e . . ace-rhinking, t en, carne toget er 10 the figu
. 1. d New Chnsnan r . 11 h b G d re
Coloma an . d he rracion especta y e osen y o ro lead th
0
an unsultied Spamar -F
1
eligious puriry and blood purity-both witho e
f
heAmencas. orr . . h A h . . Ut
conquesro t .. ,,croSpain'sdJvmec arge. st fJUTlst,Juand
fh , weremtnn . d d e
taints o eresded bis readers, God selected Spamar s-an . not any other
Solorzano remm . . .
10
the New World, beca use Spamards bore th
Je-to take h!S ffiiSSIOD e
peop 39
punst blood. , -think designs worked in dialectic, as the history
0

The emptres rwo race . 1 . f 1 b .
. d
1
ns
0
f state-makmg ro re anons o co ony- utlding
modern hfe we re ano f "S . h .
Es anol was an ideal rhat stood a o pams ness" vis-a .
. PE , ther incipient states tt raetahzed rehgwn and culture through
v1s uropeso ' . h ..
_ f-bl d laws but expanded tts course to t e potentta natton-
purny
0 00
h 1 Tt " b'l '
srare .. and economic function (mere anr _vs: agrartan mi 1 a_ry . no 1 1ty ).
Transported
10
the Americas, rhe New Chnsttan syndrome, wtth tts language
0
poltuting heresies and its obsess10n wtth blood punty, stamedthe blood of
indios and rregros and fertilized the racial bent of colomal geopohncs; espano/
in its colonial frame, racialized global geopolitics by turning imperialism
into a caste srructure and attaching color ro both political and economic
privilege (negro= blacklslave ::indio= brownltribute-payer ::es pano/= white/
exemption from tribute/authority). Race-thinking's two dimensions were
bound in counterpoint: rogether they made ancestry determine religious belief
and nationalist loyalties; together they sharpened rhe divide between Spaniard
and the rest; together they confused nation, culture, and caste; together they
presemed an illusion of purity; together they constructed social categories
founded on a vision of polluting, transgenerational heresies; together they
made soctal categories into racial truths. Together they cultivated a very
modern take-rooted in "the heretical"--on what it means ro be human.

.19. )ulorzano 1 b
'' rot,Cap.XJ,p, llJ.
Duke University
Michael J. Horswell
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA:
TITU CUSI YUPANQUI WRITES FROM THE
CHAUPI
V
ilcabamba, the infamous "last holdout" of the Incas, and home to the
penultmate, semi-sovereign Inca Titu Cusi Yupanqui, had become an
"other space" in the Andean cultural imaginary leading up to, and in the years
after, its final capitulation to the Spaniards in 1572.
1
Vilcabamba was both a
space of crisis and one of deviation, and its inhabitants, especially its leaders,
were represented as apostates, that is, renegarles who rejected Christianry and
Spanish rule, "standing away" from the imposition of colonial power.' As Jos
Rabasa convincingly argues, apostasy is a unique category of being "withour
history," for apostates reject their forced incorporation into universal history
that Christian baptism and conversion signa! (172) and are written into history
as "an attribute imposed from without" ( 177) and that functions rhetorically so
asto incorporare the so-called apostates nto (Western, universal) history. One
of the characteristics of this imposition is a "bundling" of tropes of heterodox
practices and identity markers in the representation of apostates so that they
become figured in history (and more specifically, in the texts 1 read here) as a
combination of renegarle, dola ter, sexual deviant, diseased, nonwhite, non-
European, polluted, stained, and so forth.
3
In short, this bundling produced
abject subjects and was figured on the body and space of the colonized and
those who resisted colonization, in this case, the rebellious Incas of Vilcabamha.
At first seemingly cooperating with and then la ter rejecting Spanish colonial
subjugation and returning ro their ancestral pracrices, they were characterized
1. Foucault's notion of heteroropias suggests these spaces as ones inhabm:d
"others" and as socially consrructed spaces of contesta non. Vilc.tbambd 1!. both .1
space of crisis and one of deviation.
2. The word "apostasy'' derives from the Greek artocnaiu, meanmg .J dt"fl-aw
revolt, from uno, apo, "away, apart, .. crtacn;, "standing"; rhus, the nono
"standing away" or defection from previous loyalties or hd1efs. .
3. 1 would like to acknowlcdge Catherine Brown's '"word map" summ.try ot th(
terms our seminar grappled with and rhe notion of .. hundhng" that ('mergr-d .ls .a wa)
of understanding axioms related ro heresy. This ot
15
a1St
1
applicahle to apostates, as will becmnl" dear in this
fhe Romamt- Rer1eu Vnlumr 103 Numhtr1o t-2 0 Thc Trusttts nt llm,t'rslh"
MtcHAEL J. HoRSWELL
81
. . . ary-chroniclers and historians. Cristbal d
b
SpaniSh miSSIOn . . d 1 . e
as apostares y. 'balde Albornoz, misstonanes an ear y exttrpators of
Molina and Cnsto . b b as the new center of Inca rehg10us resurge
d
'bed y1Ica am a .
1
. k nce
idolarry, escn .
1
lized millenma tst movement nown as Tak
rdtoneaoca h A '
and arremp e . f Vilcabamba. Seventeent -century ugustini
h lncapnestSO 1 d . an
Onqoy to ' e . . A ronio de la Calancha a so represente V1lcabamb
.. naryandhtstonan n b 1 I t I h' a
miSSIO . f . usr military resistance uta so nca a pos as y. n " accounts
as a space
0
not f f his Augusrinian brothers, Fnar Dtego de Orriz
f the marryrdom o one o . h h I ,
o 1 b f om his baroque perspecttve ow t e neo- nca refuge
Calancha e a orares r . y . d T.
" . idolarry"led by Tiru Cust upanqut an upac Amaru.
was a un1Vers1ry o h h
These wrirers, by appealing ro aposrasy as t e mam e arge agamst the
Andeans in borh Taki Onqoy and Vtlcabamba, and by extenston the Inca
leader Titu Cusi Yupanqui, simplify what I percetve to be a more complex
colonial subjectivity. Titu Cusi Yupanqut, the alleged apostate, ts known ro
us today precisely because he wrote himself mto htstory by producmg the
Instruccin dellnga Don Diego de Castro Trtu Cusr Yupangur para el muy
ilustre Seor el Licenciado Lope Garca de Castro (1570), a testimonial-like
narrarive that defends his father Manco Capac's actions in rebelling against
rhe Spaniards, denounces the Spanish treatment of the Incas in the conquest
and postconquest, and negotiates a future relationship with the Crown. Titu
Cusi Yupanqui declares hirnself a Christian, is baptized, and participares in
various Christian ceremonies and Spanish cultural practices, yet his words
and deeds recorded in the Instruccin represen< "heresies" in relationship to
Christian orrhodoxy and reveal his so-called apostasy, that is, his return to
and continuance of Andean religious and cultural practices the extirpators
denounced. Titu Cusi Yupanqui crisscrosses the boundaries constructed by
the binaries established by discourses of orthodoxy and apostasy. As I explain
below, the Andean concepts of tinkuy and chaupi inform how Tuti Cusi
Yuhpan/qut the body and space so central to Andean religious practice
'" " nstruccron. I wlll show h h I h
"bu di. f bod'l ow t e nca s verston of history chal enges t e
n lng
0
1 Y and spatial t f d
that gh d . ropes oun in those hegemonic narrauves
sou ttore uceh1mtoap M . .
in Titu Cus y .
1
ostate. Y readmg proposes that we appreoate
1
upanqul e ements of h W'll' h
"revmihility" of
1
w at 1 Iam Hanks characterizes as t e
perpetua reduce; h' h d d f
today may well be esterd ,
0
' 10 w te the ". Indio re ucr o o
y ay
5
apostate or tomorrow's heretic."4 In Andean
Hanks dahoratrs his nouon f"
wlomal Mayu' rclation\ wnh ol reduccn .. from the context of thc
relucated 1 1
co omal auth . d. s
n towns establit.h d b h ont1es and mstitutions and the In
tothe "border-thinkin; .. r The "reversibility" as Hanks calls 11
w 1 tentcnngandleavmgthere; t .e lnd,ans who are their new realiry
uccrones,and thus moving from apostate to herencal
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VtLCABAMBA
symbolic terms, Titu Cusi Yupanqui occupied the chaupi, or between
the colony and the last Inca and he negoriated rhrough tinkuy-like
rnaneuvers of pre-Haspamc Inca pracnces as well as newly learned
Spanish tactocs. HIS movement between cultural spaces and his use of both
Spanish and Andean approaches to political negotiation positioned him in
stances relanon to h1s and self-proclaimed
Chmtoamty and to hts status as the soveretgn Inca leading a reviva! of Andean
religious m the context_ ?f resastance to the discourses of coloniality.
The result IS a text, the fnstruccton, that marks the beginning of a new culture
of Inca accommodanon and in the colonial Andes, and that will give
way toa neo-Inca ehte s negottattons Wtth the subsequent viceroyal and
Republican societies of the Andes.
The hybridity of this "hereticity," therefore, signals a moment on the
conrinuum of transculturation in the Americas. 1 use the term "heretical" to
signify nonnormative cultural practices (religious, political, social) in relation
to both Spanish colonial and pre-Hispanic Andean cultures. While technically
the "lndians" were exempt from the charge of religious heresy, in effect one
can appreciate that the new subjects of colonialiry begin to commit "cultural
heresy" as they negotiate their way through processes of transculruration.
M y expansive use of the term "heresy," beyond its stricter definition in the
context of church history, is based on its popular, secular usage and its
secondary meaning of "any opinion (in philosophy, politics, etc.) opposed to
official or established views or doctrines."' The "heretical" posirion, 1 hope
to show, is a productive one in the formation of new cultures, not only in
reaffirming orthodoxies but also in creating new ones. In the context of the
colonial Andes, cultural mestizaje in its infancy is heretical in its expression
of heterodoxy vis-a-vis normative, hegemonic coloniality and past Andean
traditions; mestizo consciousness at this early stage of history reflecrs a hybrid
"hereticiry" in relationship to those "orthodoxies" (or tradicional practices),
both dynamic yet temporally reified constructions, of both original cultures
from which the colonized Indian, ladino, and mestizo live and rhink. As 1
explore below, this boundary crisscrossing of the apostatelheretic, Titu Cusi
Yupanqui's tinkuy maneuvers in the chaupi, are recorded on the body and
landscape of the Andes, both in the hegemonic texts of the missionaries and
in the counterdiscursive Instruccin. The story begins, howf'ver, in tht chdcras
and huacas of Southern Peru.
positions, depending 00 their location and relationship with colonia lit)' at J gven
time. His paper from the symposium is part of his book Con1ffl'"g Words: MJYJ '"
the Age of the Cross. .
S. ""Heresy," Webster"s New World Dictionary, 3rd College F.dition, 1988. Pnnt.
H4 R . ' B d
d
h eras de gusanos: evwtng o y and
. h sembran o e a
Derramando ehte a,
theAndes .
Spactln . . li.,ious movcment known as Takt Onqoy
160 rhr nanvc re . d 1 .
By the miJ l. ' . north roward .Jaua an .tma, and easr
d f
Huamang. k ( .
had extcnde rom (S n 51 Millones 87). Ta t Jnqoy, whtch can
d (harcas ter ' d h b 1' f h
roward Cuzco an . . kness " propagare t e e te t at Andcan
d
he dancmg "' . . . .
be rramlate ?'
1
ebcllin, against rhc foretgn Chns!lan dc11y by seizing
huacas were Jinally r , LgJ. s which in rurn would go into trembling
'
10
Je '
and posses11ng d'n" to rhc sevcntecnth-century authority on
1
H aca a(cor
1
"
convu "
011
' u L' e L was thc rerm uscd "for all of the sacred places
1' . Bernam: ,ollO,
Inca re tgwn, d acrifices as well as for all of the gods and idols
d
. ated for praycrs an ' . . . .
'"gn L' d thesc placcs" (Inca Reltgwn 47). Nattve rcltgious
that were worsotpe "' . h 1' f h .
d
.. d
1
achakuti or radical change m t e tvcs o t ctr people a
leaders pre tete a J . . d . . h Id .
1 d
L t d f<Jrce 0 f thcse mdtgcnous elites t at wou rcstst the
change e oy a unt e . .
Christians and reconqucr rhe Andean terntory. Thts proposed reconquesr was
ro unite the huacas from Titicaca ro Pachacamac, that ts, from the sourhern
end of Tawantinsuyu ro Lima (Millones 87). Together wtth a man named
Chocne, who called himself Juan Bautista, two women formed thc lcadership
of rhe movemcnt and took two of the most revered na mes in Christendom,
Maria and Maria Magdalena (88). This appropriation of Christian names
is just one of the tactics that the Taki Onqoy leaders would take from their
opprmnr>, revealing the complcxities of rcsistance and subject formation in
the early colonial Andes that belie the simplistic application uf the category
of "apo>tatcs" to the indigenous rebels.
Cristi>hal de Molina, one of the first to identify and warn against Taki
Onqoy, de>erihes the phenomenon as aposrasy: "los ms dellos avan caydo
en grand1imas apostadas apartndose de la fe catlica que avan rccevido
a la ydolatra que usaban en tiempo de su ynfidelidad" (129).
Cmtobal de Albornoz, the most prolific cxtirpator of the movemcnt, defines
Takd!nqoy in similar terms: "en aquellas provincias hallase una aposrassia
predteada entre los naturales que los tena a los ms naturales dcllas prevertidos
Y apartados de nuestra fcc y religin cristiana" (192). The "taquirmgos"
outnght reecr the Christ' d d . . .
l
. . . tango an cvangchzatton rcturning ro rhctr former
re practJce" coded a ""d 1 . " '
that th .. d' ' s t
0
atnes by the Christians. Molina elaborares
c-. tn tgenou\ apostates h d h b . . . .
to abandon th b. a een apttzed as C.hrtsttans and had begun
the wcake d ehtr o sorvance of traditional Andcan practiccs which angered
-- . .,
Salieron muchos predicad .
as en las punas ,., orles luego de los yndios, que predica van
' >mo en as p bl .
esta resureccin d 1 actones; anda van predicando
e as guacas, diciendo que ya las guacas anda van
NEGOTIATING AI'OSTASY IN VJLCABAMBA
por el ayre secas y muertas de hambre porque los yndios no les
sacrificavan ya, m derramavan chicha, y que avan sembrado
muchas chacras de gusanos para plantallos en los de
los Espaoles y ganados de Castilla, y los cavallos, y tambin en
los de los ynd10s que en el cristianismo
que esta van enojadas con todos ellos porque se avan y
que los avan de matar a todos si no se bolvan a ellos
la fe catlica .... ( 130)
Molina and Albornoz confirm that this movement was being propagated
through the work of indigenous "predicadores," signaling that the taquiongos
seem to have been usmg sorne of the methods of evangelization that the
Catholic priests had introduced, but in a reversa! that turned the Christian
teaching on its head. The Andeans were suffering because they failed 10 make
sacrifices to their huacas, who were on the verge of "drying up" for lack of
chicha (maize beer) and other sustentative offerings. The connection between
the Andeans' suffering and the huacas' decline must ha ve resonated with the
indigenous populations, given the genocidal demographic calamities that had
beset the Andes due to disease, abuse, and military actions. The huacas were
fighting back, planting "fields of worms" in the hearts (and in the livestock and
horses) of not only the Spaniards but also the Andeans who remained faithful
10 Christianity. The message was clear: Andean converts 10 Christianity must
renounce their new faith and return to their huacas, or die.
This "pachacuti" that the taquiongos preached required their adherents
10 reject not only the religious practices of the Christians but also Spanish
culture. Malina records what the huacas promised and what they required of
their followers:
y que los que queran su amistad y gracia, y viviran en prosperidad
y gracia y salud y que para bol ver a ellos ayunasen algunos das, no
comiendo sal ni aj ni durmiendo hombre con muger, ni comiendo
maz de colores, ni comiendo cosas de Castilla, ni usando dellas
en comer, ni en vestir, ni entrar las yglesias. ni ri\ar ni acudir al
llamamiento de los padres curas ni llamarse nombre de cristiano;
y que dcsta manera bolveran en amor de las guacas Y no los
mataran .... ( 130)
In addition to fasting and observing tradicional Andean ritual behaviors. they
werc instructed ro avoid all things Spanish. They were ro wi1hdraw not only
from Spanish religious activities but also from the colonial economy. Bur .rhos
dcscription from rhe point of view of the missionaries doe'. nonake
accounr that thc Taki Otrqoy leaders themselves were takmg Chnsnan
113111
MicHAEL J. HoRsWELL
86
. d their apostasy. While it is difficult
. . arv racncs ro sprea 1 b h h ,
and using mtsston . . to flesh out more detai s a out ow t _ese. ap?states
due ro Jack

complex these early mdtcattons of
were acrually in the resistance to Spamsh hegemony suggest that
proro-syncrenc rhe caregory of aposrasy tmposed on the Andeans
we more dosel} ex A e will see below, sorne so-called apostates
. h xteenth cenrury. s w . . '
m t e ate SI . . d'd se alphabetic wntmg to negottate autonomy
h Ttu Cusl Yupanqul, 1 u 1 . 1
suc as
1
d h'l mulraneously reviving corporea ntua practices
in rhe colomal peno 'w t e st
h those described here. . . h
suc as . . . ed the return ro Andean re IgiOSity t rough the
The taqutongos envtswn f h (. . .
huacas, arriculated not through the insrruments o t e enemy l.e., wrttmg)
but through rhe body. Molina descnbes how the body IS the medmm through
which rhe aposrasy was commumcated:
v asimismo que ya bolva el tiempo del Ynga Y que las guacas no
metan ya en las piedras, ni en las m .en las para
hablar, sino que se yncorporan ya en los md1os y los hac1an ya
hablar y que tuviesen sus casas bandas y aderezadas para SI alguna
de las guacas quisiese pasar en ella. ( 130-31)
The huacas would come out of hiding, leaving the rocks and streams to enter
rhe bodies of the newly faithful apostates. The huacas would speak through the
lndians and would enrer their homes. Thus, the spread of Taki Onqoy depended
on corporal performances that reflect age-old Andean religious practices.
6
Molina describes the embodiment of the huacas in the taquiongos:
Y as fue que obo muchos yndios que temblavan y se rebolcavan
por el suelo y otros tiravan de pedradas como endimoniados,
haciendo visajes, y luego reposavan y llega van a l con temor: y
le decan que qu ava y senta y responda que la guaca
se le ava entrado el cuerpo, y luego lo toma van en bra.;os y lo
llevaban a un lugar diputado, y all le hacan un aposento con paja
Y mamas Y luego le envixavan, y los yndios le entra van a adorar
con carneros, colle (maz colorado), chicha, llipta (pasta masticada
con hoas de coca) mollo ( h
1
d _
fi
' conc a co ora a) y otras cosas y hac1an
estas todo el pueblo d d d'
b d e os Y tres 1as, baylando y beviendo e
yn ocan o a la guaca que aquel representa va y deca tena en' el
cuerpo, y velando de noche sin dormir. ( 131 1
6. Fnr a rrearment of the relat" h.
Decolonizmg the Sodornit . Q TJons
1
P between body and ritual, see my book
especially chapter 3. e. ueer ropes of Sexuality in Colonial Andean Culture,
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA
This rich description of an Andean embodiment ceremony finds echoes in
orher colonial texts, most notably the Huarochir Manuscript, in which there
are severa! accounts of how huacsas (Andean ritualists who impersonate
huacas) perform the memory and the ongoing attributes of local huacas in
festivities very much hke the one described here.' The taquiongo in this
description performs a SJmilar function, mvokmg the power of the huaca and
reminding the Andeans of the rec1procal obligations that had been severed
by coloniality. According to Malina, the Andeans responded by returning to
their practice of makmg offermgs m the context of festivals and celebrations
in which the taquiongos would say to their people, pointing to che huaca;
"Veis aqui vuestro amparo Y veis aqu al que os hizo, y da salud y hijos y
chacras ponedle en su lugar en donde estuvo en tiempo del Ynga" (131).
Rafael Varn Gabai, in his comprehensive study of Taki Onqoy, explains
how che taqui (songldance) tradition in the pre-Hispanic Andes functioned to
integrare the community with its past, through the recitation and performance
of collective memory, an element of Andean culture 1 return to below. Here,
we can appreciate how Taki Onqoy articulated local huacas ro the local
communities, while nostalgically reminding them of their pase when all was
well, "en tiempo del Ynga." Varn Gabai also elaborares on the specific taquis
performed in times of need, called rituals of prevention: ". para evocar a
las fuerzas sobrenaturales para evitar que se repiten los males
algunos casos asociados al ciclo celeste de las Plyades u Onqoy-y para que
las desgracias presentes terminen" (403).
8
The sensuality of these dances and
embodiment ceremonies, as described by the missionaries, are added to the
"bundling" of abject characteristics that construct the Spanish category of
"apostate."
Rather than recur to colonial technologies such as writing to propaga te their
rebellion and the return of che huacas, the taquiongos revived their tradicional
modes of communication of cultural and collective memory: body and space.
Although Andeans had semiotic systems such as the quipu and the tocapu.
both of which maintained records of cultural and collective memory and were
used in the administration and historizarion of Tawanrinsuyu, much of their
worldview, history, and myths were recorded and communicated through
7. In chapter 3 of m y book 1 discuss in detail the emhodiment of the huac.J of
canals, Chuqi Suso, by her huacsa as reporred in the Huurochm- !Hors:ell
133-34). Saloman, in his introduction ro the Huarochrri thJt
buacsas' main duty was ro impersonate the great huacas in festivals .md reena..:t theu
myths" (Huarochiri Mmruscript 18). . , . en los Andes:
8
See Sara Castro-Kiarn's "Discurso y transformaclon de los dioses
del Taqui Onkoy a Rasu iti" for a discussion of how these dan..:es evolved
time and informed the short story by Jos Mara Arguedas. "La agona de Nuu.
McHAEL J. HoRSWELL
88
. . d h sical ropography. Even quipus and tocapu
corporal 51gn systems an hp ywere used. Quipus were often stored with the
d h bodv m how
1
ey b k d " d" d
relate to t e . f ample ro e ta en out an re a uring
.6 d 1 . ancesrors, or ex ' . f
mumm1 e . h . . alendar. Tocapu stgns are most o ten seen in
. mes m t e ntua e . . . 1' .
certam ceremo worn by Andeans, sigmfymg Itical, social,
rhe woven rexn es . h. mong different panacas (kmsh1p dynasties) in
d
, relauons 1ps a .
an economi
1
rment
5
an example of how Important cultural
h
A d The macsa enac l
t e n es. . d and reiterated through corpora performances.
. f manon was retame 1 1 h
10
or h were often elements of the oca topograp y, such as
The huacas t emse ves . d f h Th
k f
streams mountam peaks, an so ort . e narrators
unusual roe ormanons, ' . " h 1 d h
of Andean oral tradition often seem ro be "readmg t e an sea pe as t ey tell
rheir stories (Howard-Malverde). . .. , . .
Ir should be no surprise, rhen, rhat thJS apostasy, m wh1ch there was a
rejecrion of Spanish colonial culture, was propaga red through the bod1es of
Andeans and rhrough a recovery of the sacred landscape. Albornoz records
how rhe taquiongos worked ro reestablish the phy51cal record of Andean
religiosiry, after destroying the Christian landscape that had been imposed
on them: "Luego predica van no creyesen en todo lo que nosotros creemos
y confesamos, y hazan destruir las cruces de los caminos e imgenes donde
podan sin ser sentidos" (195).1n place of the Christian markers, the taquiongos
reestablished the ceques," or imaginary lines that formed sacred borders and
radiared out of rhe Coricancha (temple ol the sun) in Cuzco. These ceques
marked the locations of huacas and constituted a map of memory ro guide
the "apostates" back ro their old ways.
9
Albornoz was careful ro remind
exrirpators ol rhe need ro destroy both huacas and ceques:
Ase de advertir que, en todas las ms guacas questn en los ceros
Y en tienen al rededor de s unas seales que llaman Ceques
0
cachallls,_ que seales de los ofrescimientos que a las tales
guacas haz1an Y tienen sus nombres en renombre cada seal del
que all ofresci hijo o carnero de oro o plata de molla. Hallarn
los ofresclmlenros en los t h . .
d . . . a es, ceques o cae ams. Es necesano
estrmrlos unta mente con las guacas Y con todo el cuidado. ( 197)
Thi\ furthers our d d.
'iacred topogra h d h un erstan mg of the connection between the
offering.'

1
1
bodily perlormances that led ro the sacrificial
rhe invocation, of

_an sea pe. This elaboration of sacred landscape and

f
re JgJous memory and . h . . .
o mythic nd hi.ro f practlce t rough boddy lteranons
1
nca per ormances h d
A bornoz tried to lmk them i .. seem to e ocahzcd, yet Molma an
'
0
addltlon to local huacas, ro Vilcabamba and
--
'::1. \er Baurr and ZUidrma on ceques and
the sacred landscapc of the Andes.
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA
10
rhe bodies of ;he renegade Incas, represented by Manco Inca, Titu Cu;i
Yupanqui, and Tupac Amaru.. .
Molina and Albornoz mentwn severa! times that Taki Onqoy was relared
10
rhe Inca holdouts ll1 Vtlcabamba, and they report rhat taquiongos invoked
Inca authority in the1r for rehelh?n. M?lina reports rhe connection as
a suspicion: "No se avenguar de qmen uv1ese salido e-,te negocio, ms de
que se sospech y traro que fue ynvenrado de los echiceros que en Uiscab h
tenan Jos Yngas que all esta van ... " (129). Molina reasons
Onqoy was invented by the Inca "priests" because their followers "tenan
tanto respeto a las cosas del Ynga" (129), and he believes rhat the failure
of rhe movement was related ro the Spanish victory at Vilcabamba and the
execution ofTpac Amaru ( 132). Albornoz elaborares the role ofVilcabamba
more clearly by explaining that the Incas were using the religious reviva! as
a means ro retake their Tawantinsuyu and figured Taki Onqoy as a fidelity
ro rhe Andeans' "natural lord" held up in Vilcabamba (193-94). Albornoz
describes the relationship between the huacas and Tpac Amaru as one of
resrored reciprocity.
10
The taquiongos reportedly traveled far and wide ro
preach that the huacas were returning and that the Inca had reesrablished
the material support of the huacas' cult by dedicating ro them certain Iands,
services, and livestock:
. . tratavan del mucho valor que Topa Amaro tena e de cmo
los honara defendera e ampara, e que creyesen que las guacas
estavan ya desenoxadas, e que cada da embiavan sus mensajes a su
seor el ynga. Y los nombres de las guacas que predicaban parn
aqu algunas dellas que eran las generales que ms reverenciavan y
adoravan, e a quien el ynga ava enriquecido con servicios, tierras,
y ganados. (194)
While the fundamental ideas of huaca reviva! cited in this description were
being practiced in Vilcabamba under rhe Incas, as we shall see below, this
linkage ro Taki Onqoy that the two extirpators attempt is questionable.
11
_10. The reference is ro Tpac Amaru and not Tiru Cusi Yupanqui. St't"
mtroduction for Molina's relationship with Tpac Amaru, whom he the
hours hefore his execution.
version of the history of Taki Onqo)' is told from the persptive rhe
priests charged with extirpating these idolatries, and whos.e c:ueers m the
hierarchy depended on their success. Just how exte-nsive- !)ecame
15
under dehate, precisely hecause of how Molina's and Alhornoz's narmfi\'CS, .tnd nrhtr
they produced, are so conveniently See llrban.o's
lntroduction to his edition of Molina's text for <10 explan;arion nt how
MtcHAEL J. HoRSWELL
90
. b b was created not just through the tnil"
Th g
h it is rrue that y,Ica am but also through the restoration
0
;'ahry
ou ade Inca ar . 1 1 1 d h t e
rons of the reneg d d'cation of agncu tura an s (e acras) to th.
ac1 iredthee1 . ,..k.O '"
hU<Jcds, which requ '. . e of a connecnon to ,a ' nqoy, when there.
rors msJSrenc h d y "
cuhs, rheexnrpa . f -
1
suggests rhat t etc eprctton o 1 ca bamba
rvev1denceo 1, . f'd
1
. , f as
linle documenta , of aposrasy, a "university o I o or, ro m an Andean
a religious center f d Andean religious practiCes, may respond
1110
. aceo resrore d . d . re
perspecnve,asp
1
b"t'ons and ro their esrre to emomze Titu Cu.
to the clerics' persona am I t , SI
Y
asan apostare. fA d . d
upanqUJ d b importan! place o n ean re tgJOstty pre ating the
VI bamba ha eenan L d A
JCa . d d the exile of Manco Inca. oca te m ntJSuyu and
. aloftheSpamar san . . . d h '
arm b ,. ce of Andean rehg1oStty an t e gateway ro Amazonian
thus m thesym o 1CSpa h h . 1 ..
. y b mba is in rhe east, from w ere t e sun nses. n addmon
magKal power, 1 ca a . b ' 1 .
h
.
1

0
n
10
rhe sun cult, Vlicabam as etymo ogy suggesrs n was
tO!ISCOnneC1 f h h
considered rhe land (bdmpa refers ro pampa oc land) o t e . uacas (willka
refers
10
huaws or deitiesloracles). Finally, the rehg10us srgmficance of this
landscape, in addition ro its geographic and strategiC locatton, explains why
Manco Inca removes his army from Cuzco ro Vrlcabamba alter hrs srege of
Cuzco fails. The Inca's revalorization of this ancient and sacred space mirrors
rhe revalorization of the huacas throughout the Andes that was central to Taki
Onqoy. Manco Inca was sure to carry with him to Vilcabamba the mummified
body ofTupac Inca as well as the "sundial" from Coricancha (the S un temple),
again reminding us of the connection between body and space, and the mode
of communication through which the Inca would speak to his ancestors, to
his gods, and to his followers.
11
The Spaniards did not sir idly by allowing Taki Onqoy to spread through
the Andes and the Incasto reestablish their religious practices in Vilcabamba.
The Spamards responded to this threat by beginning what would become an
obsess
1
on for many of the colonizers, especially rhe ecclesiastical leaders: the
efxtJrphanonof idolatries. These campaigns would become for the Andes and
or t e md1genous people h h I . . .
s d . s w at t e nqmSit1on was for the contemporary
pamar s 10 the metropol' d h
15
an t e colony given that the Inquisition was
Tak. Onqoy served both M 1' ,
must ask f an apostasy 1 o and Albornoz's personal interests. In addirion, one
Inca Imperial rehoou re ate to local huaca reviva! would ha ve had an affinity with
a- s pract1ces As we h ll
was .such a relauonshlp, hur this.d s a see below, many sources suggest rhat rhere
Tak, Onqoy. Varn also qu . oes not provea relationship hetween Vilcabamba and
12 S L <stJons the .
. . ee llana Regalado's Reli ', m his study (383).
espeCJally chaptor l."LareiJu; g on y evangeliZacin en Vilcabamba (1572-1602),
!tevera\ And h o-On en V1\cab b .
includ hun IStonans' accounrs f am .a prehispnica," in which she dtscusses
ng t e Work of Maria Row t o pre.-Htspanic religious practices in Antisuyu.
s orwoskt and the chronicler Juan de Betanzos.
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA
91
forbidden by the Spanish Crown to be applied to the indigenous, "on the
grounds of thelr Simphctty and poor undemanding" (Griffiths 3!). Albornoz
led the repress10n of Takt Onqoy by the movement and holding
idolatry mals for those accused of bemg taqutangos." '' While the Taki Onqoy
movement was brought under control, the polltlcal and military rebellion, led
by Inca Titu Cust YupanqUI from hts in Vilcabamba, continued
to destabthze the Andean htghlands unul the execution 0 Tpac Amaru in
1572 by Franctsco de Toledo, whose pnmary ob,ective during his first years
in rhe viceroyalty was to put an end to the native rebellions and eliminare the
apostates.
14
"El agasajo del Inga": Titu Cusi's Apostasy in Calancha's Crnicas
agustinianas del Per
Antonio de Calancha left us one of the most imaginative and vivid accounts
of how the battles for Andean souls played out in VilcabambaY 1 briefly
discuss this account in order to highlight how he perceived and represented
the evangelical struggle there as one that pitted the apostasy of the Incas
against the piety of a Christian martyr. Effectively, he attempts ro write Titu
Cusi Yupanqui,like the taquiongos, out of history-as apostates. In addition,
reading through his tropes of demonization of Andean religious practices, that
is, his bundling of abject aspects of Inca culture, we can further appreciate how
body and space are integral elements of Vilcabamba as a place of resistance
and Andean religious practice. Finally,l will contrast this version ofTiru Cusi"s
actions in Vilcabamba with the Inca 's own account so as to appreciate how
Titu Cusi Yupanqui writes himself back into history and therefore positions
himself in a "heretical" position vis-a-vis the Christian and Andean traditions.
The story of Vilcabamba is told in the contexr of Calanchas hagiographic
rendering of the marryrdom of Friar Diego de Ortiz, one of rhe exceptional
"vidas" of his Augustinian order's missionaries in the Andes, recorded in
Cronicas agustinianas del Per (1639). Orriz's ordeal began wirh his eiforts
to evangelize Titu Cusi Yupanqui.
Titu Cusi received Friar Diego in Vilcabamba and offered him access ro
evangelize rhe area, as part of a peace agreement negoriared berween
authorities and the Inca. While 1 argue rhar rhis was an element ot Ttru Lust s
tinkuy-like negotiations, Ca lancha viewed ir as hypocrisy and apostas, gtvon
13. For analysis of the extirpation campaigns, see Du.riols. Griffiths. an_J
14. See Stern for a concise explan<ltion of why T11ki ultimJtdy tallni .md was
hrought under control.
lS. See Sant<.l Arias's article for her charal.:'ttrization of CliJnl.'ha .IS an
of Creole identity and for her interprerarion of the martyrdom ot lllqltl Ortli.
MJCHAEL J. HoRSWELL
91 " . "E
r maintainng "idolatrous practtces: steagasajo del
rhe Incas penchant fo . . e tuviese a nuestra santa fe, porque trnparnen
d
. de afiCion qu . 'd 1 .. te
lnga no proce 13 ltse a sus antiguas 1 o a trias, VIVIendo
1
d
deellavvue . "(70) Th h a o
haba apostata o . d . on muchas mueres . roug out the te
casan ose e b. . xt,
gentil y, como ta h. resentation of the Inca as tgamtst, and therefor
Ca lancha conrmues .
15
rep sogynist tendencies in his constant reference
1
'
linghiSownmt d h h F. o
apostate, revea d the Inca and rempte t e e aste nar Diego. Tit
I
omen corrupte h b' ) h . . u
how nca w d s addtional, thus t e tgamy , w o IS mtroduced
C ., nd wt e (secan a d 1 f
usiS seco _ A lina Polanquilaco, apostata e a e y segunda mujer
as "la adultera Dodna ngpe ostasa" (70-71 ), is especially provoked, according
dellnga despues e su a h' " 1 'b
b F
D go's excessive preac mg contra os victos pu licos y
ro Ca lancha, v nar " "(70) H
escandalosos d.ellnga, de sus caciques y capitanes . ere agam, we see the
b di
. f sive nonnormanve behavtors mto a coherent, umfied Othet'
un mgo exces . . . h h h .
the apostate. La ter, alter Ti tu Cus1 drags Fnar Dtego t roug t mounrams
during "tres jornadas de spero y penoso cammo_a ptey descalzos (71) on the
way
10
Vilcabamba, Calancha expresses his indtgnauon that Inca would
relegare his fellow priest to the of the sacred Inca city: el Inga, por
complacer a sus hechiceros, magos, y sacerdotes idlatras, mand a los Padres
que se alojasen fuera de la ciudad, como enemigos de sus dioses y, en opinin,
blasfemos y excomulgados" (71). Again we note the importance of sacred
Andean space and the significance the Incas placed on keeping Christianity
out of the key religious centers, while reproducing their traditional forms of
relgious practices. Friar Dego's Christlike behavior through these ordeals, in
which he (and his companion, Friar Marcos Garca, translator to the Inca)
was id to be "sufriendo con paciencia y alegra los trabajos que padecan por
Cnsw" (71), is contrasted with the uncharitable ways Ti tu Cusi treated the
Chnstlans. Fnar example caused great admiration: "la perfeccin de
su su desinters Y pobreza, su caridad y paciencia y sobre todo, su rara
chasnl ad".l?l) and provided Calancha a perfect foil w'ith whom to contrast
t e uclvlous Incas.
One episode stands out 1 .
conrinual\y fi d b as an examp e of how Ti tu Cusi's apostasy IS
from the Ch y Calancha in terms of lascivious sexuality and how,
"' Ian perspecnve the b d h h , d
the service of their h '
0
Y t at t e taquiongos had res rore to
Christian c\eric: uacas was now being employed to tempt and placa te this
y no habiendo podido e
codicia, el demon n ocasiones conquistarlos por
. '" por medio d h .
Intentasen robarle\ . e sus echu.:eros les indujo a que
qued a oya de la 'd d
anan desarmad . <.:astJ a , Juzgando que sin ella
reprend 1 O!ri Y .
eros sus emhriag . . , Y no tendnan aliento para
C\te fi ueces su
n, mand el lnga se bu' . persncl<>nes y torpezas. 1 ... 1 Con
scasen las ms hermosas y lascivas
Indias que hubiese en la provincia, y les orden que procurasen
pervertir a los Padres. Ellas le prometieron hacerlo, y para que,
0
por dona1re o por gusto los Padres se les inclinesen, se vistieron
hbitos negros con manga de punta, semejantes a los nuestros
en este traje iban a la posada de los Religiosos a horas
a provocarlos con regalos, palabras, y acciones lascivas. Pero
siervos de Dios, con la gracia divina, las repelieron y salieron
victoriosos de estas batallas, que fueron crueles y porfiadas. (71-72)
As if the perversion of beautiful women tempting chaste priests was not
transgressive enough, Calancha reports that the women cross-dress into
monks' ha bits ro make their approach. While this Inca transvestism can be
read many ways (as a homoerotic gesture, as a simple disguise to gain entry,
as imitation of nuns, etc.), it is clear that Calancha was figuring indigenous
sexuality as an armament in the Inca's efforts to conquer the evangelizers in
the battle for indigenous souls in the Andes, an interesting inversion of the
classic Spanish conquest narrative found in the early chronicles. The bodies
of the transvested Inca women were being "cruelly" employed to distraer
the priests from the other corporal performances going on in Vilcabamba
(embriagueces, torpezas), like those discussed above in the context of Taki
Onqoy. In this sense, Titu Cusi's apostasy, tied to this Andean corporaliry
and ro the landscape of Vilcabamba as an Inca sacred space, continued to be
an impediment to the priests' efforts anda temptation aimed at "converting"
them to Inca ways. Once Friar Diego and Friar Marcos had won the "bardes"
against lasciviousness, they soon retreated outside of Vilcabamba, back to
their churches in Puquiura, where they precipitated the beginning of the end
of Ti tu Cusi's life.
The narra ti ve sequence in Calancha 's text suggests we might read Friar
Diego's subsequent extirpation of a huaca, the "idol" Paranti, as perhaps his
way of dealing with his repressed sexuality after the visits by the transwsted
Inca women. More virtuous than defeating lascivious women, perhaps, was
the defeat of the powerful huaca, described as "un demonio feroz, que_ daba
respuestas a los indios en una pea blanca, de donde manaba una tuent<
junto al pueblo de Vircos en que estaba el templo y casa del Sol" (72). The
extirpation, following guidelines like those la id down by Molina and Albornoz
in their campaigns against Taki Onqoy, is described with a baroqu< senSiolltry
of the theatrical and the monstrous:
Exorcizaron la pea, quemaron el templo del Sol Y todos los
instrumentos de la idolatra, y el P. fr. Dirgo, <n nombr< dr
Jesuscristo Seor nuestro, mand imperialosamrntr al drmomo
Para mi que saliese de aquella pra y que nunca ms volvirse a dla.
94
d nio dando bramidos y extremeciendo la
Sali visiblemente el emo
rierra.(721
. ation resulted in and Calancha
This example of exttrp ver again dtd rhe demon return to its pla
onsequence, ne ., . "b ce.
reporrsthar,asac . fld
1
rry"Tiru Cus1 s own pnests rama bao tod
h
"U tverstty o o a ' h h p . 1 os
Back att e n d , ?2) an echo of t e uaca arantt s asr gasp
. alospares' dh'J s.
de eno1o conrr. made last attempts to persua e t etr nca _ro throw the
The.Andean rerrirory once and for all.ln the end, he extles only Friar
Chnsuans out
0
t . nder the pretext that he too harshly scolded the
D
.
5
compamon, u . . .
Marcos, tego h . edro pracrice their "tdolatnes" m secret 173). As
.
005
w o connnu . . .
s beiow in Titu Cusi's own version,_ thts wnh_ his own
we wtU see f h
1
ca's tinkuy maneuvers m rhe chaupz he occup1es.
priesrs ts o r e ," of the death of Ti tu Cusi and the martyrdom of Friar
Calancha s accoun b h
. h. h follows rhe exrirpation of rhe huaca, egms wtt yet another

1
dc onization ofTitu Cusi's "second wife," who, we are told, resisted
mtsogymst em . . . .
the continued evangelization that Fnar Diego was carryt_ng out. Reactmg
ro his preaching against rhe lnca's bigamy, Doa Angehna Polanquilaco
supposedly promored a violen! reactton rhat left sorne Chnsttans ?ead ltt
is not clear if rhey were converred Andeans or Spamards). Calancha s tmage
conflares no fewer rhan rhree rropes of demonization: "De lo cual ella, hecha
un aspid contra el siervo de Dios, como la adltera Erodas contra el gran
Bautista, quisiera beberle la sangre" (73). As venomous snake, incarnation
of the devil, Polanquilaco echoes the earlier description of the huaca-demon
that Friar Diego had jusr exrirpared. The biblical analogy to Herodias, second
wife ro Herod and mother of Salome, ingeniously foreshadows Friar Diego's
martyrdom and elevares rhe priesr's importance ro that of John the Baptisr,
who was preaching againsr Herod's biga m y just befo re Salome, encouraged by
Herodias, asked for his head iMark 6:19-29). Finally, as if serpent, adulrerer,
and beheader of sainrs were nor enough, Ca lancha throws in the trape of
In yet another inversion of Christian sacrament the Eucharist,
thts Inca desire ro drmk rhe blood of rhe martyr gives way to 'the next scene,
wttch the Inca Tttu Cusi encourages the drinking of wine until all are
. run ata he gives in honor of his father Manco Inca-an interesting
mtertextuahty wah lit e ., 1 "
lh
d T
. . u ust s nstrucczon, as we shall see below. When
e next ay uu Cusi' h .
"brama d s angover cure proves deadly his widow Angehna,
n o como una leona " d h ' d
k1ll Friar D
1
ego Aft ff .' o_r ers t e dead Inca 's caciques to torture an
1s asked ,
0
rer su mnumerable humiliations and beatings, Friar
esurrecr nu C G d
who, as the Incas we Id ust, usmg the power of the Chmuan o
1)
. re ro many t h d F .
and resp d "P lffies, a resurrected Jesus Christ. nar
(74), which in<:ites the <;n s, oderoso es mi Dios pero yo soy gran
ncas ro renew their tortures and lea ve him for dead.
95
Three additional stand out in Calancha's rendering of the
martyrdom. F1rst 1.s s mesttz? scn?e, Martn de Panda, who appears
n the scene as Fnar Dtego hes moamng wtth broken bones and
1
.
o
1
Sh . 1s strugg mg
ro get up to _Y one ast mass. no "Vindole as, el mestizo
Panda le arrOJO en el su.el.o arnba, y pomendose de pies sobre el pecho
le daba muchas coces .dt.ciendo: esta manera te concertar
huesos'" (75). Alter gtvmg mass and leavmg 11 up to God whether th
1
deserves resuscita.tion, Friar Diego .is and I.eft for dead yet
he still does not dte: Then,juan mdto bauuzado, discpulo de los ms
quendos y beneficiados del approaches htm and "diciendo muchos
oprobios, Ie;ant? la y les dto una gra? bofetada; pero al mismo punto
cay sobre ella 1ra de Dtos, poque se le seco el brazo y vivi con l seco ms
de cincuenta aos" (75). In the end, it is the new Inca, Tpac Amaru, at the
urging of Angelina, who orders the final execution of Friar Diego. The new
Inca, rhe baptized Indian, and the mestizo scribe all participate in Friar Diego's
torture and death, and as apostates, in the denial of Christianity. The mestizo
and Indian's rejection of the martyr, as figured by Calancha, is motivared by
their feeling of deceit, a loss of faith after the failed resurrection of the Inca.
The Inca Tpac Amaru dismisses him as a "blasphemer" of the true religion,
the Andean one, as we appreciate in the last lines below. The final spectacle
of martyrdom, as Calancha tells it, is horrific and evokes the "passion of the
Christ":
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA
Entendida la voluntad y sentencia del Inga, le llevaron los brbaros
con grande algazara y crueldad arrastrando por una ladera
abajo, donde estaba el suplicio pblico de los facinerosos. Aqu
le quitaron una tnica blanca que le haban puesto, y quinta vez
le dieron tantos y tan crueles azotes que deshicieron un peasco.
Escupironle muchas veces el rostro cubrindole de asquerosas
salivas, cargronle de golpes y palos, y viendo que aun as no
mora, Juan Tupac, uno de los Capitanes del lnga, apstata de
nuestra fe, con un hacha de hierro, le dio dos mortals heridas en el
celebro, con que acab de matarle, ao 1568. Cogieron el cuerpo
los brbaros, y ponindole cabeza abajo y pies arriba le empalaron,
cortndole la cabeza, y echaron el cuerpo tronco en un hoyo.
llenndole de tierra y piedra y hacienda las ceremonias todas con
que acostumbraban a castigar a los blasfemos de sus dioses. (76)
After this final inversion of a Christian image, that of the upside-down crucifix,
the Inca Tpac Amaru seems to ha ve cleaned house in Vilcabamba tollowmg
Titu Cusi's death, later executing Titu Cusi's mestizo scribe, Pand? tor
suspicion of the death of his hrother. These events, on..:e word reachfd Cuzco,
96
MtcHAEL J. HoRsWELI.
would precpuate Viceroy Toledo's final auault on Vilcabamha
and would jutfy h cxecutum of Tupac even. though the laM ln<a,
once captured, agrced to convert and was bapnzed. HtM conver.um wa
001
enough. PerhaJ" Toledo did not want to any chances Wlth potental
aP"'tates. IIIJlorng th< pleas of most cuzquenos, Spamards and A ndean alke,
Tolrdo followed through on his orders, and the Inca wu beheadcd for allto
..,., in the man pla1.a of the old In'" capital.
Tmkuy Henr;, Writing from the Chaupi, and Titu Cu1i' Instruccin
While the Spanih narrawro wnsidered above constructed a history ol
Inca P"'tay, in pan, perhap>, IIJ document for their superior& their worl
at initial c<>nvenon and to utify the need for increased resources w tha
more conven. did not fall into apostasy,l believe that the cultura
resistance by the so-called aputates reveals much more complex performance
uf subjectivity. The accuation of "ap<llltasy" was a form of Catholic imperia
interpellation of the Andean renegade, but the actual subject position ca1
be bener char..:teriud a. a "hybrid heresy," that is, as a return to an
"corruption" of the rebel'o original culture' tradition, and a
diooyncratic adopton uf ume Spaniah!Catholic practices. lf apostuy is
bundhng of trc>pes applied to resitero/rebels from the Christiar
:h peropectve, an nterpellation that leaves them "without hiswry,
. that category
11
by ubjecto who write themselves bac
Jnto hlltory tn counternarratves lke the lntruccin. Rather than apostate
they would be more a<:curately deocrbed a heretco in the oense that the
cultural performancn, both relil!iou. and r . i . "
rhc 06onhodoxet, .. or norm,, mposed f po ltlca are ."corruptlona '
indigmouo pallt and their colonizeci rom .thr hegemom< culture of the
culturn and """'rtiatin the Jlfdtltnt. lltey are living in between m
,.. D paot an n Of f 1
prnpectve of either the indi
1
orm1. course, rom t
,..nou cu ture '" the 1 . 1 h
performancn of idtntity arr uopea in relarion t he new co onoa one, t e
In thia ltlllt, rather than being r
0 1
norm of thooe culture
abandon and recct the or
0
P<>Iltate who complete
1 ute the tcrm "herny" here not ata ,,f rhoae norm
in a way that IUI!8Hfl we recon.ider the .:;
11 11
" applied mott often, b
one in the hiatory of traneculruratlon. In Potion" a' a produc:t1
"hernica" n thar they "corrupt" tradronal tran'Culturaron a
culturallife, and ir io "corrupr;.,. thara mpc>ltd formo of orrhodc
pr..:tcn that evolve inro new ev<nlually produee new cultur
Hnesy in rhia ltnte not unly can be umccived of
the propagation uf culture, borft relil!i<JUOand <ivil :: Pfudu.:tivr .:oncept f,
' all(, can hr
NP.GO'rfATING AroHAKY IN Vru;A&AMBA
97
31
a oupplemcnt.to that i! abtorbed inw what he<:ume
rhe lurure irerattOn ol orthodoxy. IJelinrtton of rhe term
"hereoy" from carly ,hurch httory and dtctronartet 1ugctt 111
mechar rhe early chu"h herct"' were very to the nt generation ,,
ladinos and mestizos living in the Andn.
A curory look at sorne of the momenrt in the formation of oarly
chri>tian hereoie rcvealo how the term it intlected with different conuptual
nuaru:eo that remarkably come into play a1 thete Wntem tropet of hetemdoxy
are deployed in the colonial Andel. For example, 31 we 1aw in Calancha,
indigenouo idolaters and apostates are often comidered to be fooled by the
devil into practicing their idolatrieo. Al one historian of Christian herety ha
.aid, "During the lint centurie1 of Christianity, here1y wa1 regarded u a fall
lrom orthodoxy provoked by the devil. Satan, it wa1 taid, had crept inw the
ranks of Chrittians and invegled 10rne to belief in falte doctrine" (Ni118 7).
ThiJ interpretation of here1y immediately forettalled any further debate or
rellection on the ideas propoted by JO-Called heretict, for anythng tainted by
the devil wat unaccqnable to a Chrittian. Blaming the idolatrouo practiceo of
the Amerindian on the devil was a commonplace in the literature and terVed
asan easy gl01s on na ti ve religioue obtervationt. Later, early Christian herny
wao explained ao a "corruption" of Chrittianity by Hellenic phil010phy (8).
In fact, the "father of all heretict," as early church father lrenaeue named
Simun Magus, wat not only denounced for hit UK of "magic" (thus hit name)
but was aloo a recent convert who had otudied with (ireek teachen and who
preached a conllation of Chriotian and Hellenic ideas. The reprnentati<m of
Simon Maguo hat all the earmarks of how indigenous and mestizo rdigoUJ
tpecialiau were deocribed in colonial tourceo. An early Gnootic, he wu
reportedly a "sorcerer," he healed with "magic," hi worldview rellected
Christian and "pagan ideas, and h Kct of lollowen reportedly engaged
111
a voracioussexuality, often aided by magic potiom. "Agai11, we can
the bundling of tropea in rhe differentiation hetween "us" nd "thern"tmpltat
in the hittorical ol heretics. Jf we can think of Simon Magua
0
a hybrid oubject caught between two or more syllertuJ of thought.' and pcrlups
"a "buyhody" who felt the need ro incorporare the new rel'l'un and older
ideas into his performance of early Chriltianity that he could then 1"" tmo
then we can begin to recngnize hnw heretCI like him r_,ble the
onestiz<JI and ladinos of early colonial Peru. .
The definitiona fnr here;fa u "error en de fe, con
and hereie u que en materia de fe se npoM con
16. Sa Niu. l.lor rhe lullMor)'.
MtCHAEL J. HORSWELL
pertinacia a lo que cree y propone la Iglesia catlica" guide us to think abou
ladinos as heretics.
17
Ladinos, as early converts and hterate Amerindians, were
those "que habla con facilidad alguna o algunas lenguas adems de la propia"
but also carry the connotation of "astuto, sagaz and taimado" (taimado:
"bellaco, astuto, disimulado y pronto en advertirlo todo" ).
1
" This connotation
of the ladino as being perceived to ha ve qualities of a pcaro is confirmed by
early modern commentators who, as Rolena Adorno has written, called the
ladino "hig talker!sl and charlatan!sl" and "zealous converts and busybodies"
(253). As Irene Silverblatt has shown, the ladinos were prized among the
religious orders beca use it was easier for the priests ro deal with these "indios
espaolados" (Modern /nquisitions 109). New converts, multilingual, and
multicultural, the ladinos no longer fit neatly inside their original cultures,
hut they remained outside the hegemonic Spanish culture, as well, due to
their "sangre manchada," especially as what Silverblatt has called a "race
consciousness" developed in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries
(112).
1
' The verb defined as "corromper o adulterar las castas por
el ayuntamte.nt? o de individuos de que no pertenecen a una misma,"
revea.ls the stmtlanty m concepts: heresy is a corruption of orthodoxy, as the
mestiZo the adulteration of perceived and constructed blood purity,
and cultural purity.
20
Ladinos and mestizos understandably
occupled a chaup or border position, andas talkers" began to write-
some pressure extirpators, others more freely-and encoded in

of their positions. While Ti tu Cusi is not a ladino,
. mgutsuca y e rehed on translators, his subjectivity seems to represent
stmt ar <htute, cross-cultural n . h .
As cultural h t . egotlattons e aracteristic of la ter ladino wnters.
. ts onans, we are oblig d . h
processcs of transculturat" \ e . to sort out the umque ways t ese
we study. In what followstolnhp ay out
10
the specific '
1
contact zones" that
in Titu Cusi's ope show how heresies" manifest
f h
. . n version of the h. f h b d h.
at .r Manco.lnca's neootiatio . h tstory o Vi lea am a an ts
d
" ns Wit the Sp . d . ,
provt es us Wtth an examp\e of h
1
h amar s. Titu Cusi's lnstruccwn
to other Andean texts ac "'writt ave refcrred to elsewhere in reference
is grnunded in an the chaupi."ll The 1 propase
phi\osnphical principies. Tinkuy
0
on severa\ key indigenous
15
t e JOmmg together of complementary
17. and Dlccumario de la lengua es -
IH. Ladmu .md talmadu,n Dicctonari1
1
deia/ Pano/a,19thEdition 1970 Pnnt.
Pnnt. effgua espaiiola, 19th Edition,' 1970.
1'1. llank'>.dlso thls uf lingui!itic a
of M.1y:1 thcm a" and and astutcncss in hulitro5
211. _Mr:Mil.ar, I>rccumawJ dtla lenJ(ua espa;,
1
,
4
( 18),
21. Scc the mtroduc-tum lo Oero/m11 zmJ( tht

Ed1t1on, 197(), Jlrint.

res rhrough a process of ritual mediation; similarly, yanantin is an
oppos:sion of dualistic symmetry of inclusion.
22
Both concepts underlie
expre 1 h 1 h f
many Andean s t at mvo ve t e negottauon o power m asymmetrical
lationships rhat 1deally are to be complementary. For a model of cultural
in rhe Andes, iris importan! to note that in these ceremonies, difference
is not erased; the tension created by complementary differences is diffused,
brought into temporary harmony, but the original differences endure. In the
remainder of this article, 1 discuss how tinkuy might be understood to inform
the narrative structure and content of the Instruccin. M y second purpose of
working with this concept has to do with the metaphorical space that would
theoretically be occupied by the narrators of tinkuy-informed texts. This space
1 refer ro as the chaupi, another concept taken from millennial Andean cultural
production, most notably in Andean textile weaving.
Vernica Cereceda has shown how symmetry and mediation are expressed
in the quintessential Andean text: the woven textile. Her insightful analysis of
talegas, woven bags from a traditional Chilean Aymara communiry, reveals
in weaving what 1 discuss in other aspects of Andean culture: mediation of
difference is achieved through negotiations of symmetrical binaries.
23
Cereceda
describes the talega:
The design of the talegas is formed mostly through longish bands,
their colors those of the natural hues of alpaca and llama fleeces. At
a closer view, one notices that the colors of the bands are repeated,
22. 1 develop my understanding of tinkuy from borh colonial accounts and modem
erhnographies. Catherine Allen has presented une of the most succinct and
definions of tinkuy based on her fieldwork in rhe highland indigenous commumry uf
Sonqo: "Through tinkuy, social unity is created and expressed m rerms of
complementary opposition. Alrhough tinkuy refers ro ritual dance-bartles, rhe ?as
wider applications. Iris not easily rranslated inro English conversa similar
meaning bur is far too ahstract). When srreams converge in foaming edd_ies to produce
a larger stream, they are said ro tinkuy, and their convergence 1s called tmku
(or tm;:u). Tinkus are powerful, dangerous places full ot liberared and uncontrollahle
force!." (205). Bolin's Rituals o( Respect emphasizes how tinkuy creares a of
among the in che ritual dance-hattles, che
opposmg sides (96-100), and deepens our undersrandmg of thls ideolog)' _m
ruuals, such as thc mamage ceremonies. 1t should he noted rhat nt)"

1
"'kN)' as
3 rnetaphor does not ignore the contentious nature of the ritual t ..
alluded to in hcr definition, rhe actual prJcti1,:e invokes ot .. hattlrs: r l;
15
' of struggle and rhat are eventually workrd out m te-mporal umon
mmp,kmemarity and reproc1ty. hi hlands,J(l("ludinll in
2..1. Cereceda rhese parrerns throughout rhe Andc-an g
Puno, Artquipa, and ( 150).
MtcHAEL J. HoRSWELL
two by rwo, in such a way that each has its pair on the opposite
hall 0 the bag, but since the number of bands is always odd, one
of them remains without a pair, and sometimes it acts as a central
axis. (152)
This singular band, without a mate, is conspicuous in a world of complementar,
pairs. What does a third space like this band signify in Andean culture!!
Discussing the center of the textile composition, the middle axis dividing the
rwo sides of the talega, Cereceda remarks:
This odd band, found at the center of the talegas, is called a
chhima, which means "heart" in the Aymara spoken in Isluga. This
heart is both the meeting place and the separating line of the rwo
sides.lt plays the ambivalent role of separator, creating two halves,
and simultaneously it is the nexus, the common "territory." The
center is thus defined as a point of articulation within the woven
space-an axis, always sharp, that divides the bag lengthwise in
the direction of the warp threads. (152)
!his space in the talega, known as the "heart" of the composition,
15
of how a third space can be a "point of articulation." Andean
ladmo wnters, 1 argue, symbolically embodied this "heart" space, the chhima
or chaup berween cultu "1 h d
f T . . res. WI use t e term chaupi throughout th1s stu y
o Jtu Cusi, and m future wo k h . k h .
of in-between positionin r
00
ot er narrators, ro mvo. e IS. notmn
ladino wrirers.2s Much as
3
.of characterizing colomal
religious ceremo h hthe who occupies a liminal space dunng
mes, t e e aupr write d . b h 1 .
the conflicted cont
1
f r stan s m etween t e two cu tures m
ac zoneo col . r d
colonization, as understood b

Ity. Indeed, the space of conquest an
was one of rituality as m h Y . deans at the turn of the sixteenth century,
narrators accounting for u _was one of military belligerence. Andean
resistances, adaptations

encoumer and the subsequent cultural

and Andean to occupy the chaupi between
T1tu Cusi Yupanqui is a

bemg, and telling. ..

who profes.,ed to he a Christianq d of an Andean hybrid "heretic
h . an suhl h
at t e \ame ttme practtced Ande \" to t e king of Spain felipe 11 yel
an re tgton, led a militar;
24. Chaupi 1\ a .-.m lar Quechua tcrm d ti
Vocahu/a,o de fa lt>n1(Utl Qurch ' e ned hy Diego (. ,
o obra"' IHalf, or the mdd7'
3
"' "Mnad,n el medio d<mza\n Holgun in hi!o 160M
2 Th1s m-hetween po!lnion
1
,

nr pla<:e!. or o o ncmpo
enloma\ nahuatl. \ce Anzalda and to the "11epaflt/a .. or Workl.
gnolo. posn10n .ts cxpresseJ .n
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA
rhe Spaniards, and left one of the most compelling colonial counternarratives
of rhe sixteenth century. He narrares from the chaupi a text intended to be
delivered 10 a former governor of Peru by way of the liminal space of the
Chuquichaca bridge over the nver that formed the border between Vilcabamba
nd the Spanish colony.
26
Rather than accept the Spanish imposition
0

:he category of "apostate," 1 interpret his performances as a "hererical"
subjectivity in the double sense that he breaks with both Andean and Catholic
norma ti ve practices. His textual posturing in the Instruccin at once proclaims
his Christianity while at the same time bears witness ro his and his father's
idolatries (i.e., faithfulness to Andean religious practices). I will briefly discuss
his position from both perspectives and then conclude this article with further
reflections on the "heresies of mestiza;e." This interpretation begins wirh
rhe political locus of enunciation he constructs, discusses the composirion
of the text, and ends with a reflection on his religious positioning berween
Christianity and Andean religious practices.
Titu Cusi's Instruccin was composed as a didactic text, addressed ro rhe
former governor of Peru, Licentiate Lope Garca de Castro, asking him ro lea m
its content and represent the Inca 's complaints befare rhe king of Spain. r From
the outset, we can appreciate how Titu Cusi positions his text from rhe space
of the chaupi, in what we might understand as a conceptual tinkuy berween
the rebellious Incas of Vilcabamba and the Spanish colonial authorities, who
had been pressing to end once and for all Inca resistance. In his inrroducrion
oc prologue to the main text, Titu Cusi reveals that he writes from a position
of subordination ro the Spanish in what appears ro be an attempr ro negoriate
favorable terms for the future of his panaca (lineage) and people. However,
the body of the text is a rendering of how his Inca forefathers were tricked
and mistreated in the early days when they negotiated with the Spaniards
from what they perceived ro be their own position oi power. The underlying
principie is the same: Ti tu Cusi continues the tradition of crearing reciprocity as
a means of negotiating conquest and integration berween rwo disrlncr groups,
justas his father and others did befo re him.
1
H The relarionships of reciprocity
are asymmetrical, but through tinkuy-like conciliations. rhe tensions of rhe
26. See Legnani for a description, from Diego Rodnguel de ot thts
and rhe ceremonial berween the and the Sp.tnish nLi5).
27 .. Citatinns .ue tJ.ken from Nilole Legn.mi's reo:nt eJLtion of lrasiTtllmt,
is a modcrniz;tton of rhe Spanish Jnd ,, transiJ.tLon mto Enghsh. Her
ntrodurtion is vtry hdpful for undcrstomding momy nu;mces m rhe te'(t,Lts hston mJ
Sht proviJe\ a review of prtvinus t"dLtions, .ts well (I-ta\.
Andean .mJ lnl'<l \:otKepts of fl'(pnK;tl alh.uKe huLidmt' m LmJ'('nlll
ot Taw.mtinsuyu, S('(' Rosrwnrowski, esrn:L.ally lha.ptrr ' !\LhrrMtt
exphl'o\ft's rhe roll of l!.l"nJtr a.nd Ldlolnll.v 111 AnJea.n l."tm'luest pohn ...s
111
Mf""
MtCHAEL J. HORSWELL
. . , . released, while temporal reciprocities established.
as.y'_Tlmerncahr:. are The Incas and rheir adversanes do nor. disappear; they
relationships arranged through performances
reopro.la nd s ace are invoked and u sed as of communication,
m wht<h the a P . nclude straregic marnages, such as that of his
S
f rhose ceremomes 1
ome
0
. S . T pac and Kusi Warkay, who were baptized and
b
h and s1ster avn u . . .
'.
01
er h
1
f 'y bamba as part of ongomg negottattons, and who
dandtenet ca d 1
marne . h
1
d eded
10
rhem as part of the ea to secretly supporr
ended up usmg t e an s e . h d
. b fi 11 Here we can apprectate how t ese renega e Incas are
Vdcabam a nanc1a y. , . . . .
not fully apostates, as characterized in th_e d.1scussed
above, in the sense rhat rhey are participatmg m the colomal system tmposed
bv the Spaniards. They convert, take Christian sacraments, and hve m colonial
But, rheir participation is nuanced by. theu contmued ro
relarives in Vilcabamba, where they financed, m effect, the restoranon and
mainrenance of the Andean religious and political structures. Their subject
positions, therefore, are performed from the conceptual chaupi and through
tinkuylike negotiations with the Spamsh, as evtdenced, for example, m the
rreaty of Acobamba, signed by Titu Cusi and the governor, Lope Garca
de Castro. "The treaty required of the Inqas the entrance of priests for the
purpose of evangelization, the conversion of the Inqa and his followers and
their eventual exit from Vilcabamba to Cuzco" (Legnani 33). As we know
from multiple sources, including the Instruccin and those analyzed above,
Titu Cusi allowed the priests toen ter his territory and nominally con verted to
Christianity, all the while still participating in Andean religious rituals, staying
in Vilcabamba, and artacking Spanish interests beyond the borders. From a
Christian perspective, he would be considered a heretic, for his corruption
of the sacraments and his obstinare practice of a blend of religious practices
mcludmg the Christian sacramenrs and Andean rituals. From the Andean
perspective, as we shall see below, he would be criticized by Inca religious
spemhsts and other leaders for tolerating the Christian evangelization. His
"heresy" goes both ways.
Anorher example is the intended marriage of Titu Cusi's son Kispi Titu to
the daughter of his abovementioned siblings, Beatriz Clara Quya. Legnani
the complica red history of this proposed union and explains how
1! responded to both 1 d S h . . .
d h
. nca an pams pohtlcal ambitions (32-37). The Spamsh
wanre t e marnage as f h . 1 . .
order toa 'd h . une
0
t e Stlpu atlons in the Treaty of Acobamba, m
vo avmg to cede mo 1 d h h'
out ofVilcaba h - h. . re an
5
to t e Inca in negotiations ro get 1m
m a, smce t
15
umon would keep Beatriz Clara Quya 's estares in
Sun, and Witches: Gender Ideo/o ies . - . ,
chapters g Class m Inca and Colonial Peru. especJall}
NEGOTIATING APOSTASY IN VILCABAMBA
IOJ
he hands of the Incas of Vilcabamba. A rich heiress, Beatriz Clara Quya was
by the Maldonado brothers m arder to marry her to Christbal
Maldonado, but she was returned to her convent after colonial authorities
intervened 10 avoid impediments to the peace process between Cuzco and
vt bamba. T1tu Cus1, on the other hand, may have seen the marriage as
a
1
;:y to claim "Qhapaq for the male descendant of the marriage.
As Legnani explams, Tltu Cus1 s recentermg of Tawantmsuyu in Vilcabamba
depended on the establishment of a leglllmate Inca succession, through both
father and mother, and the ceremomal performance of Inca rituals in the
new sun temple relocated from Cuzco to Vllcabamba. In this sense, Titu Cusi
uses the promise of marriage of his son and niece for political purposes rhat
foresta U the Spanish invasion of Vi lea bamba and for his own internal politics
of self-legitimization through the establishment of his successor's line and rhe
Iegitimization ofVilcabamba as the new center of the Inca empire. Rather than
reject rhe Spanish insistence on the Christian marriage of his son, he accepts
rhe proposition that serves his own ends. Far from apostasy, his actions mimic
rhose of a Christian father arranging a homosocially benelicial union, while
at the same time his own original cultural practices, though media red through
the new hegemonic religion, are respected and employed in the new context
of coloniality. The heresy, from a Christian perspective, involves the sincerity
of rhe use of the Christian sacraments, like baptism and marriage, since ir
is clear that Titu Cusi was using these ceremonies in tinkuy-like fashion,
as a way of negotiating autonomy while establishing reciprocity. From the
perspective of both Spanish and Andean cultures, the posture is corruptive of
traditions, but at the same time productive of the new culture in transition. His
subject position crisscrosses traditional cultural boundaries and complicares
hegemony's imposition of "apostasy," for he is performing a new identity,
that of "Christian Qhapaq," by raking advantage of both systems in arder ro
maintain his status in the new context of coloniality.
The composition of the text itself reveals the complexity of Titu Cusi's
positioning in this conceptual tinkuy. In the new colonial context, he quickly
learned to use the cultural elements needed to weave the chaupi berween th<
two cultures. His corporal performance had ro be transferred ro the written
page and transmitted across the ocean. The creation of the Instruccin has
the very structure of a tinkuy in the sense that Ti tu Cusi brought togeth<r
both Spanish and Andean experts ro "weave" together the narrative. As the
Pnmary narrator, Titu Cusi narrares as intermediary berween the rwo groups:
the translatorpriest (Friar Marcos Garda) and mestizo scribe (Martn
00
one and, on the other, Andean quipucamayocs (quipu .. rraders )
mamrained the record of Manco Inca 's life and the Inca wirnesses who
test,fy to Titu Cusi's version of events. Martn Lienhard assigns primary
agency 10 Titu Cusi in the rcndering of his fath<t's lif< history 1 IM
7
).rh< only
MtCHAEL J. HORSWELL
104
1 d
r,on" of Vilcabamba and the quipus that sur
1
. h "ora tra 1 fi ey
source bemg r e d ds" Here again, the body gures as the med
d
d Manco Inca S ee . . e . . um
recor e. d f the connection that Tttu ust must mamtain to h.
of rhe h!StorY an d_orms f Manco Inca's lile, recited from the official quipu"
s the ren mon o f h d d s,
ancestor f ed in rhe presence o t e ecease Inca 's murnm
Id have been per orm h d" . y
wou , M ttl. and Legnani have shown, t eren ttlon transcribed in
i871.Asjose azzo . . l .
. " ps out ceremomal and Andean tmpena space, recentering
rhe 1 nstrua wn m a f 1
Tawantinsuyu in Vilcabamba and on the body o Manco. nca, and evemually
on Titu Cusi Mazzotti 93-94; Legnam 28-32). In addmon to mterpreting
rhis sparialization in rerms of this recentenng, 1. percetve the Instruccin as
demarcating the rwo sides of the conceptual tmkuy between the Spanish
invaders and rhe Inca. From the beginning of the narratlve, Titu Cusi relates
the give and take that his father engaged in to negotiate with the Spaniards.
The product of rhe chaupi performance is the "tinkuy text," one intended
to creare temporal harmony in the context of political negotiations, but one
that also preserves the differences that brought the two si des together to begin
with. Mazzotti characterizes the Instruccin asan example of "escritura coral"
in which a polyphony of voices contributes to form the narra ti ve based on the
"epic" discourse of a "homenaje ritual al Inca" but whose transcription into
Spanish and into writing changes the nature of that tradition.
30
The Andean
difference is heard in the voices of the Inca military leaders and in the voice
of protest of Manco Inca that Titu Cusi represents. This difference is the
cultural and political resistance that motivated the creation and revaluation
of Vilcabamba as an Inca "other space" born of crisis and characterized
by. deviance. The Instruccin, as a "ti;kuy text," preserves that resistant
vmce from the Andean side of the chaupi, while also expressing the will to
Spanish cultural terms and forms. The Spanish difference is heard
'"
1
< rhetoncal devices adopted that express European imperial modes of
commumcatlon and Ch d' h
text 'd
1
nstlan IScourse. Indeed, the very existence of t e
s a resJ ua of rhe S . h . . . . .
alliances
1
. pams lmposition of a new way of negotJatmg
' capuu atlons and f h W b
hroughr rogeth h' so ort e can appreciate the two sources emg
er '" t e conceptual tinkuy. First is the quipu rendering of
29. Thc: prie\t and S<:ribc: carne t . .
1 and H60 recpec( 1 L o v.lcabamba well after the death of Manco Inca,
1
"
JO."\, es 1 '. "'Y 1 1enhard 187).
aceptar la exi'iten
redactarun textos
1
h.. '
13
de un gnero ritual base sobre el que se
dndma en <ou Ir ' am ..en es poMble postular que aquel tipo de 'epicdad'
natura le-La c:\crna, caractersticas muy particulares. Por su
emm.n de la fuente ural ;actenstlcas lie alejan de los patrones de composicin y
de la a'u proc:dencia quechua y representada, se
utherne,, nf the texr He pe al uso fMazzotti 97). Here Mazzotri recoRmze!
. reln les the "hcrctcity" of the text. as 1 argue.
Manco's dynastic life confirmed by.'nca witnesses, whose content signified
Andean concepuons of space, establtshment of rectprocity, and the history of
the "legitimare" Qhapaq Inca and whose form took on aspects
0
corporal
erformance related to huacas and mallquts (mummified ancestors), Second
;he evangelical and imperial political discourse contributed by the translator:
priest and mestizo scnbe provtded a form that legitimated rhe communication
to rhe Spanish authorltles and made mtelhgtble to that audience rhe demands
articulated by Titu Cusi, as well as a content that legalized rhe poder (power
0
arrorney) that Titu Cusi wished to assign to the governor, Lope Garca de
Castro.
finally, Titu Cusi's profession of Christianity is performative of his chaupi
position, as well. lt is clear from his text, as well as from the prejudicial
accounts of his actions discussed above by Calancha, that Titu Cusi flirted
with Christianity in his tinkuy moves to negotiate berween the rwo religious
cultures. He claims to be a converred Christian, the missionaries baprized
him, and he inserts Christian discourse into the Instruccin (probably through
his translator and missionary advisors). But, he also honors the huacas, is
surrounded by his Andean "priests," and was instrumental, following his
father's example, in the revaluation of Vilcabamba as a sacred as well as
political space. This revaluation of the huacas, which had as its parallel the
Taki Onqoy movement, is best expressed in Manco Inca 's speech ro his people
as he left ro take refuge in Vilcabamba. If we understand this fragment of the
narrative as coming from the ~ e p i c quipu-rendering ofTitu Cusi's homage ro
his father, one repeated in ceremonial occasions in the presence of the mallqui,
then we can begin ro hear the dissident, heretical aspects of the "Christian"
writing from the chaupi. The chaupi is a space of tension and aggression, and
here is but one example of how Titu Cusi maintains that tension throughout
his narrative, through the voice of bis father that he honors. Manco's voice
pronounces:
Lo que ms habis de hacer es que por ventura stos os dirn que
adoris a lo que ellos adoran, que son unos paos pintados, los
cuales dicen que es Viracochan, y que le adoris como a guaca, el
cual no es sino pao, no lo hagis sino lo que nosotros tenemos eso
tened, porque como veis las villcas hablan con nosrros Y al sol Y a
la luna vmoslos por nuestros ojos y lo que esos dicen no lo vemos
bien. Creo que alguna vez por fuerza o con engao os han de hacer
adorar lo que ellos adoran, cuando ms no pudiereis, hacedlo
delante de ellos y por otra parte no olvidis nuestras ceremomas.
Y si os dijeren que quchrantis nuestras huacas Y eso por fuerza,
mostrad les lo que no pudiereis hacer menos y lo dem3s guardadlo.
que en ello me daris a m mucho contento. (114--15)
MicHAEL). HoRSWELL
!06
. . d . eected as a deceiving bunch of rags," while
The Chnsnan go IS r 1 k d the ones that "speak With us and that ..
rhe rrue huacas e such a discourse, and in vol ves
"Th Titu CuSI sane' . d h' In
can ar_ . Manco is said to ha ve 1_s son as his heir in
that hne of thmkmg ( . Even though it is ostenSibly m the mouth
0
h.
1

5
provocanve. 1s
that moment
1
d
1
Titu Cusi's performance of the text as a Christia
farher, an unconverre nca, . n
. him into heretical terntory. , . . .
mmes . C . d the /nstruccion Wlth h!S explanatlon of why he
Yet Tltu USI en s . . . . h 1 .
' Ch . ty
1
ust before transmonmg mto t e ast sect10n that
converted to nsuam ' E h 1 .
. sentation to the governor. ac exp anatiOn of how he
gJves power o repre . . f . f . .
drew doser to conversion involves a o a pomt o for
bis autonomy, while he simultaneously remmds the reader of the gnevances
that he elaborated in his father's h1story about how the Spamards had treated
him and his people. Again, the tinkuy tens1on !S palpable. H1s conversion is
reluctant and caurious, but moreover, 1t IS strategic. He sends h1s brother ro
convert first and to receive in reciprocity the Yuca y repartamientos ( 123 ); he
rhen negociares the marriage and conversion of his son to maintain the land
ti des ( 125). Conversion to Christianity for Ti tu Cusi is a way to reaffirm the
bordees, "in peace," as he puts it. He finally chooses the "religion," as he calls
it, which was reportedly the strongest of the land, the "Augustinian," which he
began to study through that order's friars, obviously confusing the arder with
Christianity itself (126). As if he were negotiating to determine which order
(religion in his mind) was the strongest in the land with whom it behooved
him to establish reciprocity, he settled on the one "de ms autoridad y la
que ms floreca, en toda la tierra, aunque de menos frailes, era el de seor
San Agustn . ." (126).1n his new pantheon of gods being constructed in
Vdcabamba, we can imagine that the Christian god, Christ, and saints had
begun to fill mches in the walls, justas earlier integrated ethnic groups from
the Andes added their deities to the Imperial Inca cult. If we can imagine
Tuu CuSI symbolically functioning as a huacsa who embodies the huacas in
hiS performance of tink h f
h
, . uy negotiatJon, t en he 1s, m the hmmal moment o
t e text s creat1on a h b d h f h
A d h ' Y " uacsa. He mvokes not only the huacas o t e
n " ut al so the new gods h h h . . . .
h h d h . . wu w om e negotlates rec!proCity. He mserts
"
0
y, t rough wntmg rath h d h
interpell t S . h er t an ancmg, as a ceremonial gesture t at
a es pams lmp 1 . h
have seemed h .
1
ena power on h1s own terms-terms that m1g t
ereuca to obs f . h
functumed ro rel h e.rvers rorn etther s1de of the tinkuy, but t _at
ease t e tens10n d h
asymmerrical as it was. an mamtam the reciprocal relatwns 1p,
Conclusion Tre "H .
n "'""" of Cu/tu 1 M
T ra est1zae
are the hereiiies of cultur 1 .
and land'Cap a mest1zae that begin to transform Andean
like other colonial the end of the sixteenth l:cntury Titu
wntmg suhjec ' 1
ts, occup1es the chaupi on a continuunl
0
h ng
ing subjectivities emerging from this new context. Represen
th< e a . 1 . h h . mg
. . s social and po Ittca practiCes t roug the wmten text as does T"t
rehgioll ' ' . d . b . ' I u
Cusi, and other ladmos an mesttzos, ecomes heretiCal in that the views
expressed in the wntmgs are corrosive of ongmal norms from both cultures
in conflict. Thevery fact that the wntten alphabet IS used IS heretical of pre-
Hispanic tradmons m the sense that the words freeze the Ideas onto the page.
The dynamic, contextua! power of bod1ly performances is Iost. The magic
. weakened. The corporal sensuality that accompanied ritual iterations of
cosmogony is absent in the written text. E ven the best descriptions
cannot invoke the power of spmtual embodiment, of taquis and malquis.
To represen! Andean religiosity, or other cultural ideas, in textual form-
as do Titu Cusi and his ladino contemporaries such as the narrators of rhe
Huarochir Manuscript, Santacruz Pachacuti Yupanqui and Guaman Poma de
Ayala, among others-deviates from Andean religious traditions. The heresies
of mestizaje are found in the writers' decontextualization of Andean ceremony,
as well as in their simplifications, misunderstandings, denials, silencing, and
so forth. In other words, their strategies of cultural survival, ironically, are
also colonial violence to native traditions. Nevertheless, they are productive
of what becomes their new culture as the chaupi dividing lines between the
two cultures begin to blur and the two sides begin to mix and weave together
new tapestries of Andean experience.
The early tinkuy posturing and writing from the chaupi, like those of
Titu Cusi and others, are attempts at maintaining cultural difference, not
dissolving it into new and supposed harmonious wholes. Those differences
appear as contrary to accepted belief in relationship to Spanish and Christian
orthodoxies, and may seem heretical to later Latin American political and
ideological uses of mestizaje in homogenizing nationalist discourses. Unlike
Titu Cusi's text, however, these other ladino/mestizo texts are more contained
by their form and by the comext in which they were writren. While Titu
Cusi wrote in the context of relative political autonomy (and he was not
yet ladino), Guaman Poma de Ayala, Santacruz Pachacuti Yupanqui, and the
of the Huaroch Manuscript wrote in the context of
campa1gns. Thus, the hybrid heresies of their mestizo texts, produced trom
a chaupi position located in a la ter and more ambiguous time than that ot
Titu Cusi, though contained and not reproduced among their people, rellect
":'hat was occurring on rhe ground in rhe Andes: a mcstizaie of suc.:es_stvt
tmkuys that with each performance bound the multiplicity of cultures
1010
new reciprocities that produced, and continue to produce, Andean culture:
These reciprocities are always asymmetrical and crisscrossed hy issues ot
hower,_ status, race, gender, and so forth. These texts survived and
roke lnto the Hispanic literary canon hecause of the difference thC')'
a dlfference frozen in the alphahetic writing and _ot
whar Was and conrinues ro he in rransculturared ways, bodily .md spaual
performances of culture. , ,
MICIIAEL J. HoRSWELL
I08
. . . . ns.:ulrurarion ofren find rhemselves in third spaces, like
The subte<ts ol ":irher of rheir original nor of the new, mvadmg culture.
rhar ol the chaup. n d .. l re difference m contested spaces, particula
1
h
boJ, an arru.u a " Th. . r y
Thus, t ey em . .
1
. d neocolonial .. contact zones. ts dtfference
. 1 rcoloma,an b. f h "
in coloma .' pos orthodox, and rhe vanguard su tects o t. ese chaupis are
ofren cons1dered un
1
nd daughrers ofcultural procreat10n, as Fernand
h
. b t .. narura sonsa . .. 1 . .. . . o
an)1 mg u d. h. onsrrucnon of transcu turanon mght 1mply A
0
., rphorusetnlH .
mz s me a d . . of transculturared subtects opens our readings and
nuance conpnon 1 d h 1
more . f 1 al reproduction ro me u e t ose saeta actors whos
undersrandmg o cu rur . . d. . . h d h . h . . . e
. f s ot idennry borh 1srmgms e t em m t eu ongmal
herencal per ormance . h . 1
culture and increasingly marginalized them m t ear transcu one.
To recognize rhe heretical aspecrs of .cultural reproducnon 1s to affirm
rhe orherness subjects must assume _or dtsavow metamorphoses they
undergo and creare. Ir 5 ro recogmze rh: m process_es of
rransiormarion, and how ladinos and mestiZOS m the early colomal penod, like
hererics in Church hisrory, ofren occupied complex posltlons m their effotts ro
wresrle rhrough tinkuy negotiarions at rhe chaupi berween cultures. This move
ro recognize rhe herericity of mestizaje unrangles and reclaims the fluid and
complex subjecr posirions rhat were simplistically bundled into the figure of rhe
apostare. Iris ro recognize rhe creariviry of the heretical position, the inevitable
otherness rhar is performed in processes of cultural change. As readers, we are
responsible for how we unpack the "bundles" and interpret the hegemonic
imposirions such as that of apostasy. From m y perspective, it seems that Titu
Cusi began the unraveling of aposrasy when he stepped into the chaupi and
began narraring rhe tinkuy between the Spanish and Andean cultures.
Florida Atlantic University
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Howard-Malverde, Rosaleen. The Speakin o{ Histor:: Wil/apaakushll)kt
or Quechua Ways o( Telling the Past. l.ondon: llniv<rsity of London.
Th lnstiture of l.atin American Srudies, 1990. Print. . .
e Huarochiri M.muscript. 1608. Ed. and trans. Frank Salomon and ~ r : <
1
LUrioste. Austin: U ofTexas P. 1991. Print .
. egnam, Nicole Delia. lntroducrion. lnstrucn del In/Id Do" /)ttg dt
Cdstro Titu Cusi Yupd11qui. By Titu Cusi Yuplnqui. Edinnn, SpJnosh
. . nd English translation, Nicole Delia Legna .
moderntzanon, a d UP 2005. Print. nt.
Cambridge: Harvar ' huella. Hanover: Ediciones del Narre
199
Lienhard, Marrn. La tJOZ y su ' 1.
Print. . Antonio. Coros Mestizos Inca Garcilaso: Resonancias
Mazzotn, Jos< . F d de Cultura Economtca, 1996. Prmt.
andinas. Ltma: onl Ho istories!Giobal Designs: Coloniality, Subalt
. 1 Walter Loca . p . U ""
Mtgno o, : d
8
der Thinking. Pnnceton: nnceton P, 2000. Pri
K owledge> an or L' IEP 1990 nt.
n . . El etorno de las huacas. tma: , . Pnnr.
Millones, Lms,
1
and lts Enemies: Colonial Andean Religion and
Milis, Kenneth
16
:;_l7SO. Princeton: Princecon UP, 1997. Print.
Exttrpatwn l'b 1 d 1 1 Ed
. . 'b 1 d Relacin de las a u as y rttos e os ncas. . Henrique
Mohna,Cnsto
3
e. d 'd H' 16 1988 P
Urbano y Pierre Duviols. Ma fl : tstorta ' . rmt . .
W 1 The Heretics. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1962. Prmt.
Ngg, a ter. 1 S d' h z . 1
Rabasa, Jos. Without History: Suba tern tu tes, t e apatiSta nsurgency,
and the Specter o( History. Pittsburgh:_ U of Pittsburgh P, 2010. Prior.
Regalado, Liliana. Religin y en (1572-1602).
Lima: Ponrificia UniverSidad Cacohca del Peru Fondo Edoronal, 1992.
Prior.
Rostworowski de Diez Canseco, Mara. Historia del Tahuantinsuyu. Lima:
IEP, 1988. Print.
Silverblarr, Irene. Modern lnquisitions: Peru and the Colonial Origins o( the
Civilized World. Durham: Duke UP, 2004. Print.
--. Moon, Sun, and Witches: Gender Ideologies and Class in Inca and
Colonial Peru. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1987. Print.
Stern, Steve J. Peru's lndian Peoples and the Challenge o( Spanish Conquest.
Madison: U of Wisconsin P, 1982. Print.
Titu Cusi Yupanqui. Instruccin del Inga Don Diego de Castro Titu Cusi
Yupanqui. Edition, Spanish modernization, and English translation,
Delia Legnani. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2005. Print.
Urbano, Henrique, andAna Snchez, eds. "Introduccin." Antiguedades del
. Peru. Madnd: Historia 16, 1992. Print.
Varan Gabai, "El Taki Onqoy: Las races andinas de un fenmeno
colomal. El retorno de las huacas. Comp. Luis Millones. Lima: !EP,
1990. Prmt.
Zuidema, R Tom In e 1' .
A . . . ca IVttzatton in Cuzco. Trans. Jean-Jacques Decoster.
usun: U ofTexas P, 1990. Print.
Anna More
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION:
HERETICAL SCIENCE ANO POPULAR
KNOWLEDGE IN SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY
MEXICO
Digo, que entre los libros de mi uso matemtico, fillogos, humanistas
y otros diferentes, hay algunos que necesitan de alguna expurgacin
as en elogios de herejes. como en errores que incidentemente
traen y no de propsito controvertidos ni asumptados ...
- Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora
I
n bis influential genealogy of tbe Latin American intellectual, La ciudad
letrada (The Lettered City] (1984), Angel Rama interprets tbe relationsbip
between colonial erudite and popular culture as an antagonistic competition
between two linguistic registers. One of tbese registers "was tbat of public
pomp and ostentation and was strongly impregnated by peninsular courrly
norms" [fue la pblica y de aparato, que result fuertemente impregnada por
la norma cortesana procedente de la pennsula], wbile tbe otber "was popular
and everyday, used by Hispano and Lusopbone speakers in tbeir privare lives
and in tbeir social relations witbin tbe same lower class" [fue la popular Y
cotidiana utilizada por los hispano y lusohablantes en su vida privada y en sus
relaciones sociales dentro del mismo estrato bajo] (Rama 43-44).
1
In Rama's
analysis, writing and orality are coextensive with social categories: encircling
tbe colonial "writerly city" [ciudad escrituraria] was tbe "real city" !ciudad
real] composed of urban and rural subjects, collectively associated witb the
plebe or vulgo. To illustrate tbe attitude of tbe colonial elite toward the urhan
lower class, Rama cites a passage from the Mexican Creole scholar Sig_enza
Y Gngora's 1692 letter to his friend tbe Admira) Pez, at the time a resdent
in the Spanisb court in Madrid. In bis letter Sigenza describes the massive
riot that occurred in Mexico City rhe same year, blaming the

the resentment and ingratitude of tbe urhan plebe. As Rama notes, Sguenza
describes Mexico City's plebeian subjects in a cascade of racial eparhers atter
dedaring tbat they were "such extremely pleheian pleheians that thev <an only
-
l. All translarions from sources in Spanish :tre mi
ANNA MORE
he known as the most wretched" (plebe t_an en que slo ella lo
puede ser de la que se reputare por la mas mfame) (Stguenza y Gngora,S,,
obras 113; Rama 46).
Yet although he is correct in assigning language a central place in th
articulation of the social relationships among colonial subjects, Rama':
ahsolute division hetween high and low soctettes obfuscates the e>Ctensive '""
of their mutual interaction as well as the ways in which the
of colonial/errados invested soc1al categones wtth meanmg. The works
0

Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora are a case in point. While Sigenza's 1692
lener to which Rama refers clearly reflects elite anxieties about social and
ethnic mixture, as he says the "condemnable foil y with which we live amid so
many plebeians at the same time that we consider ourselves to be formidable"
(culpabilsimo descuidado con que vivimos entre tanta plebe al mismo tiempo
que presumimos de formidables( (Sigenza y Gngora, Seis obras 119-20),
the Creole scholar's invocation of terms such as plebe and vulgo is also pan
of his larger project to imagine a local public sphere. Without contradicting
the political and theological models that underpinned Spanish absolutism and
onhodox Catholicism, Sigenza's works antlcipate a public arena in which
what Rama ca lis the letrado would communicate directly with local citizens.
Thts tmagmed pubhc was the recipient of his most impassioned projects. In
what

scholars have interpreted as an anticipation of Enlightenment
valucs,_ Sg_uenza was one of the earliest examples of Creole antiquarianism
and SCtenttfic modemity . 1 1 1 f
1 1
. maco oma context dommated by ehte dtSp ays o
oyda ty
10
pemnsular administration and scholastic orthodoxy in the Chun:h
an Umvers1ty.z Yet it is n t ft d . .
integra) t s .. , . .
0 0
en note that borh h1story and sc1ence were
that demoand,gcudenza s vtslon of a Mexican patria, an expansive local homeland
a concept of b th 1 1
tradition) and citize h" h parnmony (material documenrs of a oca
and thus are only 'P :
1
ebmterpellated subject of the "love of patria"),
they appearcd. l y exp lea le m rcference to rhe political contexr in which
2. Thc tdca tht Stgcnza was a harban cr
wu fint mtroduccd hy lf'tm of rca_son caught in a period of llotruquc
GonKora, a worlr.. c_hat ts srall thc .ronard m hls 1929 biography of Sigi.lenza y
dlk:ussn thc tsuc, arguing for

for the lifc ( 1). Kathlecn
1
an Enh&htenlnf!'nt t 19-10). nn1 htm under the rubric uf ha roque rathrr
l. Thc on thc riw ol ('
1
cmrury Spams.h Amcr .reo e l'llrtotism a d 1 .
and p dt-
91

1
n ':al1dentity in seventet'"nth
"R n -116.1-=uralitcraf)'anal Utrly,Bradmg.l62-72P d
dunng rha 1ft Murat\a an Ylll of thc mht ui : ag en . .
tourcct tfnrd ('. d thc & _ty o( the
By tcntral In Most nf thc:-"t'
1
,
1
k, of Pcltn.
11
thc re uf .1
mrrrKcnt:e nf an .. ,dt"nnry.
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION
II3
n articular, what has been understood to be Sigenza's "scientific
Id p . "namely his espousal and defense of a mathemancal and mechamsnc
mo ernIJ' d d. 1 h
e istemological for un mg p enomena, served
a platform for the creatoon of a colomal pubhc sphere of an
ideal citizenry. In his pubhc wrotmgs on astronomy and astrology, th1s vers10n
scientific epistemology beca me a means to overcome the economy of
orthodoxy and to replace the moral authority of the censor with
the scientific guidance of the scholar. Sigenza 's confrontation did not take
place as a direct anack on the Church but rather through his lifelong polemic
against a field of knowledge ambiguously positioned berween Church doctrine
and popular knowledge. In a series of published writings that range from
popular almanacs to his treatise on the 1680 comet, Sigenza argued against
the epistemological foundations of astrology, declaring more than once that
"1 am also an astrologer and know very well on what foot astrology limps
and the weak fundaments on which its edifice is built" (que yo tambin soy
astrlogo y que s muy bien cul es el pie de que la astrologa cojea y cules
los fundamentos debilsimos sobre que levantaron su fbrica( (Libra I4).
Although this stance has almost exclusively been seen as a sign of Sigenza 's
disrance from his "baroque" environment, these terms do not address the way
in which Sigenza 's defense of mathematical reason was pan of his anempt
to form a seventeenth-century Mexican public. In Sigenza 's public writings
on astronomy and astrology, mathematics replaced the economy of orthodox
Catholicism wirh a new regime of rruth "'" rhar in turn resemanticized .1
series of terms that had previously linked power to knowledge in colonial
discourse, particularly plebe, vulgo, idolatra, and supersticin. By analyzin
has been seen as one of rhe main paradoxes of Sigenza 's
sJmultaneous production of popular almanacs and condemnation ot rheu
eplstemological basis, iris possible to discover both rhe partirular constramts
these sources ha ve underemphasizeJ the \.omplex transfoml.UIOn ot
poh!1cs during this period. See More. Sm't'rt'lgrtf)'.
4
Following underst.and ot trurh- .t .. pohtl\..tl
f._ .. ] by fivc- imporunt tr;uts. 'Truth' 1s "rntred on thc- torm ot
and rhe institurions 1t; u 1s suhrt"\.t ru t"\.'onomtl."
nd poluiul 1111.:1tC'mc-m (thc- dc-mand tnr trurh, .ts tor t"\."1.mon1k" rn.ll.hk.'flllfl as
tur puwerl; 11 1s the ohiC'\.'t, undc-r dnc-rsC' tornu. ot ntulM'IlSC' ,httusaon ;anJ
rhroutth ot and mlornl.t.rttlfl
ex re-m f"f'tmvdy hrnad m thc- St"k.'lal htld.,, nur w1thst.andn'llt stn.."f hmat;aiMlftsl;
11 15 .md rr01 nsmmc-J UluJc-r thC'.\."1.mtml, dtlmm.t.nt 1t not c-xdusi\T, tlt h"
pnlui('oll,md iipparatuK"S 11.nny. wrlllntl rnt"d1t1h bsth. t

thc- IS'i.UC' uf il whnlc- dc-hlllrt' and so,:lal "ontn,ntlltton ,Jco,.tt"'tlk'lll'
I'"Truth ilnd Jlowc-r"' UI-.UI.
114
ANNAMORE
and the effects 0 the competing systems of truth and power that shaped a
notion 0 citizenry and pubhc at the end of the seventeenth century m Mexico.
Matbematics and the Limits of Heresy
Although Sigenza was an eclectic polymath, it is clear that scientific
were one of his more central interests. In one form .or another, Sigenza engaged
in scientific projects over his entire career, a pass10n perhaps equaled only by
his dedication to Mexican history, chronology, and the pre-Columbian past
(Trabulse, "La obra cientfica"). After being expelled from the Jesuit arder in
his rwenties, Sigenza was forced to seek a salaried position wherever he could
find it and to engage in commissioned works of public and priva te nature for the
rest of his life (Leonard 8-10; Burrus).ln 1672 he won a chair in mathematics
at the Real Universidad in Mexico City, a position that he held, despite a tense
rdationship with the universiry, until his death in 1700. This position carried with
ir the obligation to publish yearly almanacs, popular printed works that used
astrological principies to creare a calendar of clima tic predictions for medicinal
and agricultura\ use IGonzlez Gonzlez 202-18). Although he continued
to publish over the course of his nearly thirty years as a university
professor, Stguenza became increasingly belligerent toward the epistemological
basts and practtce of astrology, going so far asto label it "bagatelle" [bagatela]
10
hts almanac, an epither that prompted the following reprimand from a
censor: He ca lis Astrology 'b 11 h'l h R 1
u h. . agate e w t e, as a Chatr of Astrology m t e oya

0
t
1
15
CJty and as someone who owes to it whatever he possesses, he
sAsotruol n?t on y phrofebss but also esteem and aplaud it" [tiene por bagatela la
ogtaenun om reque '1 d b d'l
por hallarse catedrtico de
50 0
e e sino estimarla y aplau u a
le debe lo poco
0
m h en la Real Umverstdad de esta ciudad y que a ella
1 f uc o que ttene](Quintana 194)
n act, more rhan one histo . h . .
publish the yearly alma . nan as asked why Sigenza conrmued to
h
. h nacs glven his ob . d. d d' . n
w IC they based (Trabulse .. vmu_s 1s ain for the tra ttwn o
Brotns, "La Llbra .. 178 Be ' e' La obra Cientfica .. 117 Vctor Navarro
nltez robet 139-43) M ' . .. '
own statemem made in his 16
94 1
. osr ha ve taken S1guenza 5
In this, he declares: a manac as the mosr plausible explanation.
.rime 1 was young, my inclinario
dJa of.divme and letters also led n to study the
!.tudymg Mathemaucs and Astr< 1 meto spend various lyearsJ
a youthful later what was at thar time
once 1 obtamed the chair m th f d lnto an ob(" .
cal University of Mexico on in the
my limited financia! state up of ]uly, 1672 andatbl onu .f
now, 1 w { ecause o
as orced to continue
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION
blishing rhe almanacs, a [pursuit] that introduced me to the lack
awareness of the futility and waste of such an activity and to the
of honor and credit that is awarded to its study.
[La propensin que tuve desde mis tiernos aos a la Enciclopedia
de las divinas y humanas letras me estimul a gastar tambin
algunos en el estudio de las Matemticas y Astrologa y lo que
fue entonces ardor de la juventud se continu despus como
obligacin del puesto porque obteniendo en la Real y Pontificia
Universidad de Mxico la Ctedra de esta facultad a 21 de julio
del ao de 1672, as por esto como por los cortsimos medios con
que hasta aqu he pasado me necesit a proseguir en la publicacin
de los lunarios a que dio principio la poca consideracin de lo ftil
y desaprovechado de semejante empleo y de la ninguna honra y
acensos que se medran en este estudio.] (Quintana 242)
115
Following Sigenza's statement, scholars have generally concluded that the
Creole scientist continued to publish popular astrological guides against
his will, forced by his obligation as university chair of mathematics and his
generally bleak economic situation.
Although clearly central to Sigenza's authorship of almanacs, which despite
general assumptions about reduced New Spanish readership do seem to ha ve
represented a signifi.cant monetary source for both rhe aurhors and the
financial considerations cannot account for rhe public manner in which he used
the popular press ro confront the epistemological foundation of astrology as
a science. This confrontation goes beyond Sigenza's repeared questioning of
the urility and accuracy of astrology. In bis polemic wirh rhe Jesuir missionary
Eusebio Kino over the meaning of the 1680 comer, published in 1691 under
the title Libra astronmica, Sigenza reproduced sections of his 1681 pamphler
titled Belerofonte matemtico contra la quimera astrolgica de don Martn de
la Torre [Mathematical Bellepheron Against rhe Asrrological Chimera of Don
Martn de la Torre], the original of which is presumed either to be lost orto have
S, As wirh many ephemeral works, rhe hisrorical informatJOn on rhe pubi.H:ataon,
sale, and readership of almanacs in colonial Mexico s scarce. Alrhough they nughr nor
ha ve reached the le veis of readership rhat hsronans of English nf rhe s.Jme
period ha ve reported, they most likely go berond what has heen m
he a very reduced readership in New Spain. The hesr summarr of Fnghsh readtrshlp
15
found in Capp The quarrels around printing permissions .md rhe requesrs b)
relatives of deceased authors w print their alman.lcS posthumousl)' mdKak rh.u thetr
sale was at least reasonably lucrarive. Quintana cites vanous eumples of rhe quarrels
and requests hy prinrers (52-55).
!16
ANNA MORE
never been printed. In this short rreatise r.o the provocations
of Martin de la Torre, rhe Flemish mathemattctan restdmg m Campeche, With
a detailed attack on rhe epistemologtcal foundattons of asrrology (Libra
153
_
78
). The Libra ,;stronmica was also a reply, m th1s case to Kino's Exposici
astronmica !Astronomical Exposition], in which the Jesuit interprered th:
1680 comer asan indication of imminent natural d1saster or political strife
Sigenza understood Kino's treatise, published shorrly after the Jesuit arrived
in New Spain, ro be an underhanded attack on another of his popular writings
on the comer, rhe Manifiesto filosfico contra los cometas despojados del
imperio que tenan sobre los tmidos !Philosophical Manifesto against Comets,
Stripped of the Empire They Ha ve Held over the Timid] (Libra 9-17). Published
shortly after the comer swept across the Mexican sky, this treatise insisted that
the celestial appearance not be interpreted as a portend or ill amen. In these
two popular tracts, whose content is known only through the fragments and
summaries included in the Libra astronmica, Sigenza thus elaborated what
would come to be his consistent critique of astrology, in which he underlined
its logical inconsistencies and poor record for accurate predictions.
Sigenza's attacks on astrology parallel the general picture of its decline
among educated Europeans: over the course of the seventeenth century,
astrology generally shifted from a discourse shared by both erudite and popular
to one& that was marked as a popular and increasingly "superstitious"
behef system. ,Yet even as theological and political battles were being waged
over astrology s foundanon a d
. d. . d . n scope,n contmued to hold an 1mportant p ace
m me 1cme an agnculture as th h f . . d
le 207 91 Th
. ' e P et ora o a manacs from th1s peno attest
app - e contmued rele f d
of decline among erudite Euro e o astrology even durmg ltS peno
.. judiciary" astrology
1
p _ans asto do with its dual nature: whereas
, or astro prog . d d' . . f f
was officially condemned b h nos1s an 1vmanon o uture events,
or "practica!" astrology us ydt. e
1586
_Papal Bull Coe/i et terrae, "natural"
judged benign and even ben;fi agriculture, and navigation was
h b Cia (Ernst 249) 1 . h er
t e an on magic and divinatory arts aH . n pracnce, owev ,
of the world, moreove:cted al! astrology.
7
As a system of
doctrme of free w11l but posed the

not only challenged the

as or hirths, mi ht. thr_eat that natural phenomena,
101-2; Schechner (.enuth 66-70). g InStigare popular unrest (Daston
of Coumer- Reforrnation bul\s and . , . .
of J\trologKal works dearly h . ed1cts that gu1ded censorsh1p
t e Posslbility that astrology might lead
6. Th<i general pKturc ha-. heen well enahlishtd
C.ap_p, and Curry using su_ch da'\!>c studics as Kt.irh
7. A<i h,,\ put ll, m l,npe v .. hui! .. Engl1sh exam le
furrunc-rcllmg" (2' 1 ). is d p J. l
egra ed to popu ar
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION
II7
.
1
agitation. Beginning in the middle of the seventeenth century, for
ro socra Mexican censors repeatedly remarked on the social and political
with astrological predictions. A 1647 edict requiring that
dangers f 'bl h . 1' . 1
11
almanacs be censored or possr e eretlc content exp ICit y points to the
;ossibility that the "less prudent" members of socrety might confuse divination
wirh fate:
Experience has shown the inconveniences that result from not fol-
lowing the ninth rule of the Catalogue and Appendix o( Prohibited
Books, as set out by the briefs of the High Pontiffs Sixto V and
Urbano VIII [and] published in 1640, which gives the form and
manner that must be followed in J udiciary Astrology, predictions,
nativities, the formation of figures, interrogations and favorable
days, in which rules are given or aflirmed with rhe vainest of fore-
sight and consideration of the time and moment. Because of ths,
the rustic and ignorant men and those who are less prudent and
who are easily convinced, give credit to and believe the content
of these predictions to be true, although they know that the judg-
ments made in these depend u pon human and free will [ ... )
[La experiencia ha mostrado los inconvenientes que resultan
de no guardarse la regla nona del Catlogo y Apndice de los
libros prohibidos publicado el ao de 1640, como lo disponen
los breves de los Sumos Pontfices Sixto V y Urbano VIII, en que
se da la forma que se debe guardar y tener en las materias de
Astrologa judiciaria y pronsticos, nacimientos, levantamientos
de figuras, interrogaciones y elecciones en que se afirman o dan
reglas con vansima advertencia y consideracin de los tiempos
Y momentos. Con lo cual, los hombres rsticos e ignorantes Y los
menos prudentes que creen de ligero, dan crdito }' tienen por
cierto lo contenido en dichos pronsticos aunque conozcJn que
los juicios que en ellos se hacen dependen de la humana voluntad
Y libre albedro J. (Quintana 101)
After the pronouncement of this edict, all :.md l:'Jiendars
puhlished in New Spain wt:re suhject ro censorship. The resulring_
of censorcd almanacs contains the nnly survivmg hy .S1guenza
Gngora. Thcst almanacs. togethtr with tht censors' .. rnwJe
1
limittd hut window into the ,:u hure of m
Mexico. In the mareriJis m lnquswrul
mirror 1647 edi..:t\. on tht J.tnAt'h posc.-J
astrologiGII pra..:tin. Censuring .1 predldHHl in Sii(Ut'lltd's lt..--4 .llman.ll.'
!18
ANNA MORE
that the year would bring "disturbances: [disturbios], for instance, one
inquisitor writes that "since che pamphlet Circulares amo2g the plebeians and
th y are not che most informed, ir could provoke error [como el cuadern
co:re en la plebe y ella no es la ms enterrada puede ocasionar el error .. j
(Quintana 146).ln 1682 another censor asks that strike hissrarement
that a new star would appear m che sky because the nove ley prom!Sed in the
sky and anticipated by the incapable vulgo, as [it was] predicted wirh such
spirited certainty and with the warnmg of sorne no_table alterations,
could provoke in the ignorant people error and m the t1m1d much fear''
[la cual novedad prometida en el cielo y esperada del vulgo incapaz, como
pronosticada con tan animosa certidumbre y con recelos de algunos notables
alteraciones en la naturaleza, podr originar en los ignorantes algn error y
en los timidos mucho asombro] (Quintana 176).
While astrology for use in prediction and divination was strongly censored,
however, astrological knowledge of natural phenomena for use in agriculture,
navigation, and medicine was expressly condoned in Church pronouncements.
The 1647 Mexican inquisitorial edict, for instance, prohibired the publicarion
and sale of judiciary astrology, but in accordance wirh Papal bulls and briefs
ir aHowed for predictions with "weather forecasts that necessarily and
frequently result from natural causes such as eclipses, rains, plagues and calm
and dry periods"!juicio de tiempos que proviene necesaria y frecuentemente
de usas naturales como son eclipses, lluvias, pestes, tiempos serenos y secos}
(Qumtana 101 ). The extensive historical scholarship on English almanacs of
the same period suggests that there was indeed a large reading public for the
ephemeral publications ' E h 1
d h. ven glVen t e probab1hty that coloma Mex1can
rea ers.
1
_P was much more limited, ir is clear from the edicts and from the
competlllon among the publ' h d 1 k
1 h
ts e a manacs rhat there was a sizable mar et
among peop e t e prohibir' d fi d ,
almanacs were clearly still . e ne as or vulgo. At the least,
and medicine
1

0
1
1
nstdered essennal for the pracrice of agnculture
a e seventeenrh M . .
has wrirten rhe very e cenrury extco. lndeed, as Roger Charner
. . xtstence of al . h
of learned material
5
vartous avenues for t e
enough ro reconsider the , as publlc readmgs, and should be cause
statJc categories of "erudite" and "popular."
9
H. ( :app e'>tlmatcs that 10 mid-seventee h-. ,
sold yearly (l.\). nt ;emury England, 400,000 almanacs were
9 .. Whlie frnm the hen,h, rather
nf re.u.lership sho than Mexican, example, the general
alm.mac, hy lt'i very cnncJ!.eness, wa, he used a suggestive modcl: "The
wnh rhe to he read hy the lnerat d of a plurality of readings,
ll1terate.l he almanac provH.led mfnre an. sgns and pictures ro be deciph"r"d hy rhe
L h 1.. 1nat1on ah .. ...
anout t e wc-atner.lt offt"Ted the dates of law cases and fairs and
C)peo, precepts and advicc. An f"vrrvdav
.
0
what appears ro ha ve been a gene,ral acceptance of rational astrology in
Give h ntury New Spain, Sigenza s unwavermg crltlque IS notable. Th1s
enteent ce . hl
sev .d ost completely in the summary of h1s 1681 pamp et, El Belerofonte
helai quimera astrolgica, included in his 1691 Libra astronmica.
encon .. a 1 tkf k
Chiel among his complamts agamst astro ogy were ots ac o. accuracy, ':"ea
foundations" (both epistemological and h1stoncal), and olloglcal concluswns.
Beginning with the foundatwns of astrology, S1guenza finds an etymologJcal
ertainty that "the Devil was the first who used astrology or, better said, the
one who introduced it into the world" [el Demonio fue el primero que
us la astrologa o, por mejor decir, el nico que la introdujo en el mundo]
(Libra 162). Citing Pierre Gassendi, he argues that the stars can at best be
signs, not causes (164), and if they are causes, he continues, they are part of an
infinitely complex universe, whose nature is only beginning to be understood:
"And 1 will say more: if the changes in elements depend upon rhe influence and
qualities of the stars how could those [ ancient authorities J predict with cerrainty
when even the qualities of the planets are not known with perfection?" [Aado
ms: si las alteraciones de los elementos dependen de los influjos y cualidades
de las estrellas cmo podrn aqullas [las antiguas autoridades] prevenirse
con certidumbre cuando ni aun de los planetas estn sabidas con perfeccin las
cualidades?] (171). Even observational progress, he argues, will not be able to
find logic in the irregular movements of the stars whose "diverse revolutions
and periods, even if the world were to last one hundred thousand years, could
never be combined a second time" [diversas revoluciones y periodos, aunque el
mundo durase cien mil aos, en todos ellos jams se podran combinar segunda
vez] (171). Finally, ro this celestial map he adds rhe complexity of geographical
relativism: "Whar would rhe ancients say if rhey knew rhar on rhe coasrs of
Peru when ir is summer, in rhe Punas or Andes, which are rhe mounrains rhar
run almosr from north ro south it is winter: and in rhe lands berween with only
ten leagues difference one note; another ( ... ) Therefore. even if Adam
himself had made observations conserved until our time, what good would
these be to astrology in general since they would not be relevant ro all dimJ.tes
and latitudes?" [Qu dijeran los J.ntiguos si supieron que en las costa_s del
Per siendo esto, en las Punas o Andes, que son los montes que en
corren casi de norte a sur, es invierno, y en las tierras intermedias. con solas
leguas de diferencia, en partes se nota otro temperamento! J. .J Luego .wnque
fuera verdad haber hecho observaciones el mismo Adn Y que se
hasta estos tiempos, de qu le servirn en general a la astrologa.
00
sJendo
acomodables a todos los climas y paralelos?! ( 1 73).
ANNA MORE
In practice, then, Sigenza's attack on astrology mimicked the ambiguityol
its position 11 wtth one difference. Without
questioning the fine hne be:ween l:elesttal power over phenomena
and free will, Sigenza y Gongora repeatedly noted a senes of problerns in
the epistemological foundauons, the observauonaltools, and the accuracyol
predictions made by astrological method._ln thts dtscrepancy he clearly drew
extensive\y 011 Europea o authonttes who hkewtse cntaqued astrology. Yet even
as he consistently attacked the epistemological grounds for astrology, Sigenza
simuhaneouslv took advantage of its links between knowledge and practice
to create a forum for communication between erudite and popular
sectors of colonial society. Sigenza 's paradoxical relationship to astrology
thus reproduces its ambiguity as a field of knowledge in Counter-Reformation
Catholicism, with its sharp division between judicial and natural astrology.
To this division, however, Sigenza added the observational knowledge
and logic of mathematical calculation by which he questioned not only the
epistemological basis for astrology as a whole but also, implicitly, the quality
of Inquisitorial censorship in New Spain. On this basis he envisioned a third
space of knowledge, outside of oversight by theological and social norms, in
which scientific reason would define the terms of truth.
Henneticism and the Mathematical Regime of Trnth
f
Sigenza's sk.epticisrn toward astrology was founded on a combination
o rwo strong mfluences e n d f . . !O
P h h
. u e rom seventeenth-cenrury Jesmt sctence.
er aps r e most tmportant fl f
J
d' . f . m uence on hiS work was the development o a
esun tra ltlon o practtcal m th . . .
ro Peter Dear b th
1
a ernattcs m the seventeenth century. Accordmg
' Y e ear y sevent h 11
practica\ applications of b . eent cemury, mathematics-covenng a
optics and calendrica\ anod and rneasurement, including astronomy,
' naVIgallonal 1 f
sti\1 marginal aspect
0
]es . d sctences-had beco me an essenna , t
' un pe ago (D. . .
argues, was a gradual acceptan f. gy. tscrplme 34-37). The result, Dear
among jesuits educated in thes;e
0
c:rtam precepts of mechanical philosophy
As Elas Trabulse has shown new orms ofknowledge ("The Church" 134).
1
. . , astronomy d
1
P ace m rhe curnculum of the R
1
U . an. mathematics al so had an ear Y
Sigenza beca me a professor in ntversadad in Mexico, and by the time
'they already had at least one serious
im.portant for Sigenza Wer
m Barttsra Rtccoh.' rwo nf the mnst citee the of Pierre Gassendi and
ht'irortography ha!!. often hghted u pon the few rn: n hts 1691 l.thra. Althou?,h
;s work on Jesun SCtence ()f tenegade philosclphers such
ue or s rom these snurce<t. !-.ce Ruth ._hllt4:t Stgenl.a wou!J ha ve enough
m. tguenLa. -47 f()r a rcading of (;assenJi\
nt in Diego Rodrguez _(La ciencia perdida; Los orgenes): Indeed,
himself declared Rodnguez "a most excellent mathematJcJan, very
equal of rhe greatest of this and predecessor, in the
mue f the Royal Chair m Mathemancs [excelentJSJmo maremat1co y
regency
0
a cuantos han sido grandes en este siglo, y predecessor mo en
muy de la real ctedra de matemticas] (Libra 181), Throughout the
Jaregen . . .. h' lf .
Lb astronmica, m fact, S1guenza shows tmse not only to be versed m
of observational and computational mathematics, but also to
be in contact with its la test developments m Europe, both through pnnted
works of Jesuit and non-Jesuit scientists and through personal correspondence
with rwo of its most importan! Spanish advocates, ]osef Zaragoza and Pedro
Caramuel (34,141).
11
Sigenza's explanatory paradigm for natural phenomena, however,
remained deeply indebted to the Neoplatonic hermeticism of Athanasius
Kircher, the jesuit polymath of the Collegio Romano. Although not without
his own history of conflict with Jesuit censors, by the end of the seventeenth
century Athanasius Kircher was clearly one of the most disseminated and
widely respected natural philosophers in the Counter-Reformation universe
(Evans 316-45; Trabulse "El trnsito" ).In his will, Sigenza y Gngora himself
boasted that he possessed almost all of Kircher's works ("Testamento" 172)
and throughout his writings repeatedly referred ro the Roman Jesuit as an
authority on matters of natural philosophy and physics. Kircher's encyclopedic
hermeticism was a hinge between the practica! applications of observaran and
computation and the tradition of Neoplaronic ideas of influence. According
to Martha Baldwin, magnetic theory provided Kircher wirh an attracrive
alternative to the mechanistic and atomistic ideas of Ren Descartes and
Pierre Gassendi, in keeping with his hermetic ideas of sympathy and anripathy
128-29). lndeed, Peter Dear classifies him as one of the innovarors of a new
alr:nagam in Counter-Reformation science, "physico-mathemarics," a field rhar
exploired and overrode the standard scholasric disciplinary
dvson between physics and marhemarics: it advocared mo.nhemarics as a rool
for. the creation of genuine physical knowledge, hut did so by means of the
Ansrorelian characterizarions of rheir suhject rnarters" (Displim
lndeed, one of rhe first applications of this neologism i.n Hd
texr .on magnetism, Ars mag,esia, while another Jesult sc1ennsr. ( .
Battlsta Riccioli, u sed the ter m in his 16S 1 A/mJgcstrmt mwum
(172-75), a texr thar Sigenza cites frequently in the l.1lm1 olstronomit.J.
ll. For more on anJ Spansh lesult sn- NJ\'dtro Rn
1
rtlns,
"Tradltl<m," espetlly .146-4H. F\'otns ( '.tramuel ,t!o ' t'lt"sfS('IIIfllt . .IUrhnr m
tht' tradnion of Ntoplononism (.U4-l5).
ANNA MORE
Whereas Sigenza seems to ha ve. been more naturally drawn toward the
tradition 0 mathematical and espoused by Riccioli
and Gassendi than to Kircher's expenmental hermenetsm, he stops short f
adopting a fully mechanistic worldview or declaring outright, as
does, rhat mathematics is the only source of certamty (Dear, Discipline 17S
Dinis 2001. In his public debate with Kino, for insrance, Sigenza accepted
in principie the hermetic universe of "secret" attractions elaborated in
Kircher's works of natural philosophy but proposed that this was a realm
of such complexity that the task of deciphering these was nearly impossible.
In fact, Sigenza can be understood to ha ve synthesized the two positions in
the ]esuit tradition that he inherited: although he advocated measuring and
calculating physical phenomena to arrive at mathematically supported truths,
experience made him aware of the complexity of such computations and the
number o{ natural mysteries that remained. For instance, in response to Kino's
assenation that jusr as human beings grow old, so too does the earth itself,
Sigenza comments thar "this analogy should not be considered so material,
as sorne think" lesta analoga o semejanza no ha de ser tan material como
pretenden algunos\ (Libra astronmica 26).lnstead, he offers an explanarion
thar he found in Kircher's !ter extaticum in which the human mind imitares
the exrension of the "immaterial world" (Sigenza y Gngora, Libra 26).
he. premiSe ohhe complexity of mathematical calculation thus permitted
to crmque Kino's position on astrology as a simplistic presumption
o uect correspondence betw h .
In h'l h d'd een t e macrocosm and the mtcrocosm.
act, w 1 e e 1 not openl s ..
did assert that mathem . Y espouse a mechanistic universe, tguenza
positive propenies of thattcs was the only ground by which to establish the
a panicular ha bit of ]e e. Throughout his treatise, Sigenza engages m
sutt sctence- rath h fi d' . h d'
the complexity of probl
1
er t an n mg certainttes, e 1scusses
. ems re ated to d
d1stance from the eanh giv comets composltlon, m uence, an
one.
11
Even within possible answers rather than defending
provided the Creole scholar a .
1
hiStlc stance, Sigenza 's focus on mathematics
h
. Wtt arefugef h . h
r an regardmg Kino solely as b rom t eological subtleues. Rat er
a mem er of the Jesuit order and engaging him
ll. As. Ashwonh has wrincn, "Thcrc
wherc. a uf mutua\ly hi (are many instan..:es in jesuit works
a or at lea'>t an urder of e or hyputhescs secms ro ..:all for
( 1 K-1671 ), m a remarkab\y erudnc Yet a stance is rardy t;tken. Ri..:oh
exp fnr theu appca .
1
of new . hl
Ashwnrrh h utheslle'i h onR wnh the nren h !ltars,llsts fourtecn possl
.. YP t at thl!l edectlctam" gt "and of each.
the npmon nf every Jcsuit "prohahilism" ll)'
(
1
Ul reJt a YleWpt)lnl rnerely he was .1 reasomtble
t Was lc-ss prohahle thatt
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION
I2J
. doctrinal debate, for instance, he continually interpellates the Bavarian
'"a hemarician: "! speak to the reverend father not as a part of such a
as a mar h d 1 b'
venerable whole, but rather as a mar emancan an part1cu ar su Ject" [hablo
1
reverendo padre no como parte de tan venerable todo, smo como con un
y sujeto particular] (Sigenza y Gngora, Libra 1) and la ter refers
:ahim asan "eminent mathematician" [eminentsimo matemtico] (4). The
irony
0
rhis inrerpellation beco mes apparent as he proceeds to destroy Kino's
argument point by point and then to question the accuracy of the missionary's
compuration of the comet's properties based on observations he had made in
Europe." In bis 1681 Manifesto, furthermore, he mocks attempts to exceed
rhe limits of mathematical knowledge: "until now no one has been able to
know with physical or mathematical certainty from what and where comets
are engendered, much less been able to predict them; thus with much less
{certainty] can they be predicted, despite those who insist upon the contrary,
which will expose them to the mockery appropriate to such a puerile delirium"
{nadie hasta ahora ha podido saber con certidumbre fsica o matemtica, de
qu y en dnde se engendren los cometas; con que mucho menos podrn
pronosticarse; aunque no faltar en el mundo quien quiera persuadir lo
contrario, con que se sujetar a la irrisin, que es consiguiente a tan pueril
desvaro] (Libra 10). Apparently attracted by its promise of absolute certainty,
then, Sigenza adhered to mathematical truth even while he acknowledged
natural influences beyond the scope of human observation and calculation.
14
Astrology and the Colonial Public Sphere
Although the intellectual currents of Habsburg learning provided rhe
parucular amalgam of mathematical calculation and Neoplatonic hermericism
of Sigenza's astronomy, these cannot accounr for the context of his anac.ks
00
asrrology as epistemologically lacking and generally inaccurare. The "''''''
value that Sigenza attributed ro marhemarical obser\'ation and calculanon
may be clearly seen in bis 1692 lerrer ro the Admira! Pez in which. asid<
ANNA MoRE
from alluding ro the social and erhnic. character of the rioters, Sigenza also
organizes social distinctions around and The riot
is preceded by a series of events, mcludmg a solar torrential
rainfall accompanied by floodmg, and finally a plague of chahutSt/e rhat ruins
rhe wheat crop. Sigenza relates these m .?eta!l, declarmg that when the eclipse
occurred the vulgo pamcked, but rhat 1, m the meanttme, stood observin
the sun my quadrant and telescope, exceedingly happy and repeatedl:
rhanking God for havmg allowed me ro see what happens only rarely in a
given place and of which there are so few observations in the books" [Yo, en
este nterin, en extremo alegre y dndole a Dios gracias repetidas por haberme
concedido ver lo que sucede en un determinado lugar tan de tarde en tarde y
de que hay en los libros tan pocas observaciones, que estuve con mi cuadrante
y anteojo de larga vista contemplando el sol] (Seis obras 108). Likewise, he is
able to investiga te the cause of the chahuistle plague by using a microscope to
understand its properries ( 1 09). Similar! y, he asserts in the Libra astronmica
that accurate observacion of the heavens depends on the use of a telescope: "l
note as well that it is laughable rhat one could conclude anything of substance
in the matter based on observations made without instruments but rather
by the naked eye and plain reason" (Advierto tambin que de observaciones
hechas sm sino con la vista y estimacin, es cosa indigna pensar
que puede condu1r cosa alguna de consideracin en la materia] (123).
1t
15
clear these citations that Sigenza considered accurate observation
and calculat10n the purvie f d d 'd f
h be w
0
a re uce number of pracnnoners, outsl e o
w ose num rs la y the vulgo sub.ect t h "d . . f . h " [ - bl
d d 1 . . o t e ece1vmg sense o stg t engana e
senn o e a vtsraJI! 1bra 120) O .
felt most h
1
. ( ne of the shghts that Sigenza seems ro have
rhe mo's was the Bavarian jesuit's assertion "thar
ary ro mme 1S . 11 h h. h
and low noble and 1 b .
1
unlversa Y followed by mortals bot 1g
' pe elan, earned d 1 . . . h b
inferred. that in the
1
ud f an un earned, from wh1ch tt mtg t e
gment o the r . h'
at all smce 1 would not be morral whmost re_ 1g10us father 1 must. be not mg
or unlearned, but rather the e t' ' f ether h1gh, low, noble, plebetan, learned
\que la opinin contraria a n
0
disputed by the metaphysicians"
1 h a mta es unt 1 1
Y a1o.-., nobles y.plebeyo<;, do..:to!, seguida los morra es,
del muy religiOso padre debo de .lndof..:tos, de que se que en
nt. a_lto, nt . n noble, ni plebeyo, ni ser yo porque no sere morral,
de que lo, metafsicos ) docto, m dono, sino el ente .de
Kmo.., argumcnt, qualifies h. 1 ). After lsting his diffcrences
nor pleln,an, hut rathtr vcry h,xh, ver;!t."::;n as "neither idiotlt,
ni p/eheyos, \mo muy altos, muy no,,le le \and very leamed"lno idwt.JS,
are rhc "lcarned" and .. muy doctos (25). lf
011
thc sidt' of
of r..:omc:r.., ro c:arthly mouter..,, anyone who in tht power
may he: nan f h er they he nh 1 h . . r
,.
0
t c: vull(,, A ,. 1 osop pocrs. o
. thc..,t norc!oo !thow, SlgUt'\11 . 1
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION
lifies astrology-whether in the hands of the Austrian Eusebio
at the Umverslty of lngolstadt, or m that of the rustic people"
1( bres rsticos], who read hiS yearly almanacs-as the scrence of the vulgo.
as documented in the almanacs that ha ve survived in the lnquisition
records, over the course of the almost thirty years durmg whrch Stgenza
ore the popular broadstdes, he appears to have become mcreasmgly
roward the practice and its practitioners. Although Sigenza
claims ro have written against astrology as early as 1675, this almanac has
nor been preserved. The first notice of his belligerence is in 1690, when
another astrologer complains that Sigenza "has treated us insultingly in
person and in print" [nos ha tratado afrentosamente, por palabra y por
escrito] (Quintana 187). The following year the censor accuses Sigenza of
being"satiric" [satrico] and orders him to revise his almanac "omitting from
it all that is insulting to the astrological sciences and to their professors,
srriking and leaving out of the first paragraph of the conjectural forecast of
the year what he says, with pretencious audacity and disdain, [to] deauthorize
the science of rational astrology" [omitiendo en l lo injurioso a la ciencia
astronmica y a sus profesores, quitando y tildando en el primer prrafo del
juicio conjetural del ao lo que se dice en l, con pretenciosa temeridad y
menosprecio y desautoriza la facultad de la astrologa racional] (Quintana
193 ). Another censor adds that beyond calling astrology "bagatelle," Sigenza
seems to be persecuting the other astrologers in his column: "in thar which
he discusses eclipses he is somewhat satirical as regards all orher astrologers
and this has already been a complaint of one of these, rhe bachiller Antonio
Sebastin de Aguilar Cant, as his petition in the present almanac proves .. len
que trata de los eclipses est algo sarrico contra los dems astrlogos )' porque
de esto est ya quejado uno de dichos astrlogos que es el bachiller Antonio
Sebas.rin de Aguilar Cant, como consta de su peticin en que presenta su
lunano (Quintana 194). These indiscretions appear ro ha ve greatly horhered
the who repeatedly admonish Sigenza to stop insulting as
a "For which reasons it would appear advisahle that Your
the said Don Carlos de Sigenza either notro print the sa1J tore..:.asrs,
smce he says that he is forced and does so ro satish orhers. or Jt ht>
15
ro
thern it he wirhout mixing in ahsurdiries and ;,til the .more so he
pndes himself on heing humhle"'IPor y as razones parfie tuera
Vuestra St"ora le mand;.tse a [)un C;,trlos de Sittti<'nt.l
0
no
Imprimiese dichos pues lo h;,H:e violento Y J'tlf ,z.usro 'fl"'"',
0
que si los imprimiere seJ sin nu1dar hoherids, y m.ls en d mJsm'l
sr ala ha de modc.stol (Quintana llJ4).
. h1msdf c.xpl.lins his llt,sition in prologues W rhc.
10 that ol puhlishrJ usr bdor. th< Junr riot. In rhos hr d<.:IIT'. :vrral
ye.trs .tgo 1 d1d rhe samr Js thro dJstntRUJshrd monhrorn.1th."1"'
11
lnhAnnn; t"f''n..
ANNA MORE
which was to quit absolutely producing predictions since one loses more .
with them than one advances in reales" [aos ha que haba yo hecho t"dtt
K 1 f d b
0
que
hizo el insigne matemattco Juan ep ero, que ue eJar a solutament d
hacer pronsticos por ser ms lo que con ellos se pierde de crdito, qu:
1
'
que se avanza de reales], and "the more care 1 have taken with the year)o
dimatic predictions and the changes in the weat?er the more 1 have manage:
to get wrong" [lo que he consegutdo es errar mas mtentras con ms cuidado
he hecho las pronosticaciones de los temporales del ao y las mudanzas del
tiempo) (Quintana 197). The following year he repeats a line from his letter
to the Admira) Pez on the riot that had occurred the previous year: "it nas
been sorne time since, as a good Father, he has warned us, reserving for rhe
future a greater punishment if we do not mend our ways. The fatalities that
al\ of New Spain has experienced, to its great loss, from the 9th of May of
last year, 1691, until the moment 1 am now writing, must be attributed to this
sole reason and not to chimerical or fantastic principies of Astrology" )ya
ha das que nos amenaza como buen Padre reservando para adelante mayor
castigo si faltare enmienda. A esta sola razn y no a principios quimricos y
fantsticos de Astrologa se deben atribuir las fatalidades que desde 9 de mayo
del ao pasado de 1691 hasta el instante en que esto escribo ha experimentado
toda la Nueva Espaa muy a su costa] (Quintana 228). Finally, in his 1694
almanac, he declares that despite having realized quite sorne time before "the
ltnle consideration of the futility and waste of such an activity and the lack of
honor and presttge awarded to this study" [la poca consideracin de lo ftil
Y desaprovechado de semejante empleo y de la ninguna honra y acensos que
se en este estud1o} he has not been able to escape the requirement to
pubhsh the almanacs and therefore that "it is necessary to continue [theml
unttl fate mtervenes or the w Id d " [ h 1
f or en s es uerza contmuarlo asta que a
ortuna se mude o se acabe todo] (Quintana 242)
The personal and confessional t f s , . d
b h
. ll . . h' one
0
tguenza s repeated caveats ts murare
Y ts mterpe atton m 15 1694 l ,
)aficionados who sh Id b d a manac of his readers as his "followers
followers or those whoou e e ucated by his critique: "1 say this so that my
' are not appr h k
of the same that they are ' . .ectate t at m the frank confesswn 1 ma e
expenencmg th d . . l
tried to be correct in all and th h e estre Wtth whtch 1 ha ve a ways
on the side of uncertainty t ey also realize that Astrology fa lis more
maccuracy . h
who (even scrupulously and caref ll )
10
tts aphonsms than do t ose
mis aficionados, o los que no lo fuu y present them" !Digo esto para que
eren agrade f . ,
que hago de lo mismo que experiment
1
zcan en la ingenua con eswn
d
an e dese .. d
e acertar en todo como tambin para
0
con que siempre he vtvl o
la Astrologa en la incertidumbre y f que. se desengaen de que ms peca
. a encta de . f .
(au.nque con y escrpulo) los sus a que los que
Thts note t<t a tellmg commentary 00 the place (Quintana 24_.1).
almanacs had in creatmg
THINKING WITH THE lNQUISITION
127
. a inary public sphere. In fact, it is clear that the other practitioners'
an ''" g that Sigenza hbeled both them and therr professron were more
complamtt the result of wounded pride. If astrological almanacs were not big
than clearly seem to ha ve garnered enough of a following to crea te
busmestst,ion among rheir authors and publishers. Yet while it is plausible that
compe' . l . l l . .
Sigenza continued ro pubhsh astro og1ca a manacs out of necessity unul
h ear of his death, It rs also hkely that he understood that they prov1ded a
means ro crea te a public beyond the select readers of erudite sociery
in New Spain.
15
Conclusion: Sigenza as Inquisitorial Censor
In a society with very few spaces for a mixed sociability between elire and
popular culture, outside of the pulpit and the pulque bar, almanacs clearly
provided a means to intervene in popular knowledge. Thus, despite his
warnings against the inaccuracy of predictions, and his own confessed disdain,
Sigenza continued to issue the generic astrological readings of climatic
forecasts and the favorable days for bloodletting and purges, which were the
stock repertoire of all early modern almanacs. lt seems entirely possible thar,
despire his distrust of astrology, the Creole scholar saw almanacs as a means ro
intervene in key areas of public concern, including agriculture and medicine. At
the same time, his warnings and admonitions were an attempt ro cull from the
extensive vulgo a group of citizen-subjects who, if not "learned," were at leasr
critica! of popular knowledge. Thus, mathematical truth provided Sigenza an
authority beyond the curtailed scope of astrology, subjecr ro Church doctrine
on predictions: after a few false starts, Sigenza 's almanacs do nor conrradict
the prohibition on judiciary astrology and even take pains to remind readers
human sin is the only reason for natural and human disasrers.
1
t. In fact .. Jt
15
clear that Sigenza's deauthorization of asrrology bothered rhe New Spamsh
censors as much as did the possibility that he would use his almanacs ro
overstep the limits of human knowledge. Sigenza's ability ro undermme rhe
enure epistemological edifice on which astrology was based seems ro have
been the source of rheir consternation.
15
Capp states thar English almana..:s were ofcen use-d to disseminoue ideas
New Science or simply ro ..:orrect inaccurone ideJs ..:elesritl hodtes. The
he says, was a mixture herween old and new cosmologies rather rhan _. \Uf
( 209). . ..
1
ner
011
thC' rtt
" : as 111 thc forementumed hs C' n-.uer unishment it
as a good Farher, he has warned us, reservmg tor tht"/urure
wc do not mend our ways" !nos amenaza ..:umo huen 1 adrr rese
mayor castigo si faltare enmienda) (Quintana l2H).
ANNA MORE
For Sigenza, however, it is clear that the mathematical regime of tr
10
which he adhered did not contradtet the economy of Church
but in a sense added to h1S tnSight mto human error. Although
disquahficauon of a popular form of knowledge parallels a trend in late
seventeenth-century h1s. contmued mterventi?n i? astrological
almanacs can only be explamed m reference 10 the soctal dtvisions of th
colonial society in which he lived and wrote. Whereas J rgen Habermas h e
\inked the rise of a public sphere 10 aesthetics, as a field that provided a
civil society with a form of judgment and critique (36-37), in SpanishAmeric:
it was scientific re a son that modeled an emergent public by projecting a rea\m
of knowledge and power outside of ecclesiastical and viceregal governance
(More, "Cosmopolitanism"). While not disturbing the basic social divisions
of colonial society, the espousal of cakulation transformed the terms ol
governance from a model of Thomist es tates and pastoral careto one guided
by scientific reason.
17
Sigenza 's sera pes with the Inquisition 's censors do not
therefore reflect an embrace of heretical positions. Unlike in Europe, where
Neoplatonic hermeticism and mechanical philosophies alike had fallen under
the shadow of heretical thought,
18
in Mexico the censors' fears appear to ha ve
been more attuned to the possibility of social unrest. Sigenza, however, was
not proposing to unleash a popular politics but rather to improve on colonial
in effect, to better the censor through access to an objective
certamty .
. Sigenza and the Inquisitorial censors has an
lfomc, tf tellmg, endmg. In 1699, the last year of his life, Sigenza himself
hecame a censor _for the Ho\y Office. In his signed acceptance, Sigenza
dbefended the attributes that he, as a mathematician and scholar,
rouKht to the posmon:
1 declare that among my h . l . . d
. h mat emauca , phllological humamst an
vanous or er books th
hccausc: of their are that need expurgation either
incidental rathe th b . heretlcs or beca use of errors that are
iasum{Jtadosj anh emghpurposefully controversial or assumed
ot ers t at need th d 1
would a!<lsume that th . . h e autor demnatus etc. An
all mhcr \ihranes in

t not on\y for my hooks but for

llty ecause we ha ve not had hook censors
THINKING WITH THE INQUISITION
for many years here and beca use it is difficult for the inquisitors of
H 1 O
ffice ro expurgare books dueto the1r many occupations
ilie oy . k
and because this is a labonous tas ....
Digo, que entre los libros de mi uso matemtico, fillogos,
humanistas y otros diferentes, hay algunos que necesitan de
alguna expurgacin as en elogios de como en
que incidentemente traen y no de propostto controvertidos m
asumptados; y otros que necesitan la nota Autor demnatus &.
y discurso suceder esto no slo en mis libros sino en los ms
de las libreras de esta ciudad, por la falta que ha habido en ella
de correctores de libros de muchos aos a esta parte, y por la
dificultad que hay en los calificadores de este Santo Oficio para
expurgar libros por sus muchas ocupaciones.] (Quintana 278-79)
129
Mathematics thus provided Sigenza with an authority unparalleled by orher
members of rhe Church ro cull errors of rruth and doctrine from scienrific
reason. While rhe new regime of rrurh that Sigenza professed displaced rhe
monopoly thar rhe economy of orthodoxy and heresy had held previously,
however, it did not elimina te it.
19
Sigenza's entrance, in the lasr year of his
life, inro rhe circle of New Spain's Inquisitorial censors is symbolic of rhe
mixed power rhar the letrado held in a colonial sociery whose governance had
rested on religious grounds from rhe beginning of Spanish colonizarion. While
this model and jusrificarion for colonization conrinued rhroughour rhe Spanish
colonial period, especially on rhe colonial frontier, Sigenza 's rarionalization
of governance reflected another social reality of late sevenreenrh-cenrury
Mexico. In rhe urban centers of rhe Central Valley, a region rhar had been
under Spanish dominarion for more rhan a cenrury anda half by Sigenza's
!ifetime, popular culture mixed indigenous, African, and European knowledge
m ways not foreseen by the categories of inirial Spanish colonization, such as
"idolatry." To rhese "rusric" and "ignoran!" people, Sigenza responded wirh
a new economy of knowledge, signaling the first step in rhe auronomy of rhe
letrado as the arbirrer who would define and govern popular knowledge and
practice in New Spain.
In his dlsniption of the 1692 riot, (or instdm:e, Sil'uenu mahs
companson IX'tWCl'n rhe .. iJolatries .. of rhe past and rhosc ot rhe prtsent m w K
1

I.Httr 1" dlarly a metaphnri..:al use of thr term (St'u o/mJs l.l4l.
qo
ANNA MoRE
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California P, 1986. 136-66.
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the Liberal State 1492-1867. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1991.
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1800. London: Faber and Faber, 1979.
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Manchester UP, 1991. 274-91.
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Daston, Lorraine .. Marve\ F 1
Modero acts and Miraculous Evidence in Ear Y
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and Stephe Europe. Ed. Paolo Rossi, Maunce
119-39.
0
um rey. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1991.
--. and Experien . Th ..
. . Revolutmn. Chicago: U of e Mathernatical Way in the Scientl(IC
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" ' . e e IKton and Pc r . . ' . .
ome . . Culture and p
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l ltlcs m Coumer-Reformauon
P 1 R . M opu ar 81if . R Fd
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"' aunce Slawinski and In enaissance Europe.
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IJI
5
R J. w. The Making of the Habsburg Monarchy, 1550-1700: An
E van ' ",,retation. Oxford: Clarendon, 1979.
Michel. "Governmentality." Power. Ed. James D. Faubion. Vol. 3
Works of Foucault, 1954-1984. New York: New P, 2000
[1978]. 201-22.
"Truth and Power." Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other
Writings, 1972-1977. Ed. Colin Gordon. New York: Pantheon, 1980.
109-33.
Gonzlez Gonzlez, Enrique. "Sigenza y Gngora y la universidad: crnica
de un desencuentro." Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora: Homenaje 1700-
2000. Ed. Alicia Mayer. Vol. l. Mexico: UNAM, 2000. 187-231.
Habermas, Jrgen. The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. Trans.
Thomas Burger. Cambridge: MIT P, 1989.
Hill, Ruth. Sceptres and Sciences in the Spains. Liverpool: Liverpool UP, 2000.
Leonard, lrving A. Don Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora: A Mexican Savant of
the Seventeenth Century. Berkeley: U of California P, 1929.
Mazzotti, Jos Antonio, ed. Agencias criollas: la ambigedad "colonial" en las
letras hispanoamericanas. Pittsburgh: IILI, 2000.
Moraa, Mabel. Viaje al silencio: exploraciones del discurso barroco. Mxico:
UNAM, 1998.
More, Anna. Baroque Sovereignty: Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora and
the Creo/e Archive of New Spain. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P,
[Forthcoming].
--. "Cosmopolitanism and Scientific Reason in New Spain: Sigenza Y
Gngora and the Dispute over rhe 1680 Comer." Science in the Spanish
and Portuguese Empires, 1500-1800. Ed. Daniela Bleichmar et al.
Stanford: Stanford UP, 2009. 115-31.
Navarro Brotns, Victor. "Tradition and Scientific Change in Early Modero
Spain: The Role of the Jesuits." jesuit Science and the Republi<- ol Leners.
Cambridge: MIT P, 2003.331-87.
Navarro Brotns, Vctor. "La Libra Astronmica y Filosfica de Sigenza r
Gngora: la polmica sobre el cometa de 1680." Carlos de S1giien::a
Y Gngora: Homenaje 1700-2000. Ed. Alicia Mayer. Vol. l. Mexoco:
UNAM, 2000. 145-85.
Pagden, Anthony. "ldentity Formation in Spanish Ameri,a." Colonwi/Jenhf:Y
in the Atlantic World: /S00-1800. Ed. Nicholas Canny and
Pagden. Princeton: Princoron UP, 1987. 51-93.
-. Spunish lmptrialtsm a,J the Poltticu/ lmuginatwn: Stu,/it's in 1-:um/)NH
a"d Sfh.Jnish-Amencll" Social PoliticJI Th;oory N('w
. Havrn: Y ale UP, 1990. . _ _ ),;\'// J,
Qunt<lna,Jos Miguel. l.J !lstro/cJgu rn /, Nut>li.J 1-.S/'IJnJ ""
0
. .
1
Murtnez a Sigt>nza )' Gngmu). BillluJhltlS I11('XI\..ann.\.,
1%9_
1)1
ANNA MoRE
Rama, Angel. La ciudad letrada. Hanover, NH: Ediciones del Norte,
198
Ross Kathleen The Baroque Narratwe of Carlos de Sigenza y Gng
4

'New Wo;ld Paradise. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1993. ora: A
Schechner Genuth, Sara. Comets, Popular Culture, and the Birth of Mod
Cosmology. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1997. ern
Sigenza y Gngora, Carlos de. Libra astronmica y filosfica. 2nd ed.
Mxico: UNAM, 1984.
--.Seis obras. Ed. William G. Bryant. Caracas: Ayacucho, 1984.
--."Testamento de Don Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora." Biografa de Don
Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora, seguida de varios documentos inditos.
Ed. Francisco Prez Salazar. Mexico: Robredo, 1928 [1700]. 161-94.
Thomas, Keith. Religion and the Decline of Magic: Studies in Popular Beliefs
in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century England. New York: Oxford UP,
1997[1971].
Trabulse, Elas. La ciencia perdida: Fray Diego Rodrguez, un sabio del siglo
XVII. Mexico: FCE, 1985.
--."La obra cientifica de Don Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora (1667-
1700)." Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora, Homenaie 1700-2000. Ed. Alicia
Mayer. Vol. l. Mexico: UNAM, 2000. 93-123.
--.Los orgenes de la ciencia moderna en Mxico (1630-1680). Mxico:
FCE, 1994.
--... El trnsito del hermeticismo a la ciencia moderna: Alejandro Fabin,
Sor Juana Ins de la Cruz y Carlos de Sigenza y Gngora (1667-1690)."
Caliope 4.1-2 (1998): 56-69.
Enrique Gaviln
THE GNOSTIC IMPRINT ON PARSIFAL, AN
JLLVMINATION OF RUINS
TRANSLATED BY MoNIQUE DAsCHA INCIARTE
Kunstwerke sind asketisch und scham/os.
1
- Theodor W. Adorno
I
begin by addressing the presence of Gnosricism in Parsifal in arder ro
confronta more general theoretical problem about how the past is staged,
borh its impossibility and necessity. Richard Wagner's extraordinary originality
in the creation of the character of his final drama and the combinarion of
the typical with an extraordinary originality, make this work an appropriate
ground from which to analyze an essentially theorerical position through the
phantasmagoric evocation of Gnosticism in rhe Middle Ages: the represenration
of, obsession with, and recurrence of history in works of arr. In Parsifal. a
great work that belongs to the "cenrury of hisrory," Wagner's evocation of
the Middle Ages establishes a very particular relationship with rhe pasr, one
worth exploring from the rheoretical stance that 1 ha ve chosen. Furthermore,
the work exemplifies another phenomenon of great interest: Gnosricism's
in European culture as a marginal trend that is suppressed rime
and again, but that always resurfaces, in many cases, as the importanr
lea ven m crucial works of the Western Tradition.
The underlying hints of Gnosticism within Parsifal provide yet anorher
example of the nineteenrh centurv's obsession with medieval soery, alrhough
?u.r interese in its presence is not ;imply arrribured ro a widespread fad. Rarher,
Jt
15
morivared by a deeper commentary. Parsifal is one of rhe key works
of a cenrury that casts a hallucinared glance back ro the pasr ar rhe
when Europe hegins its hallucinating voyage inro the PJrst(al
precJsely exemplifies sorne fundamental rendencies evol\'ing wirhm
culture at the time: ir touches on the saaalization of art .tnd rhe celehrJtron
an imaginary past, conceived of as a model for rhc furure. rhe_
time, ir exemplifies the key ro idenrity in rhe present, rhe ot
eroticism, the fascination with rhe Orient, and rhe desire ro regress trom
l. "Works ot arr and shamdc:ss" (Adorno Horkhe-imtr
111
).
1}4
ENRIQUE GAVILN
capitalism's all-measuring linear time to the circular time of myth. Within
Bhnenwehfestsprel there are also tendenc1es that reveal trends
0
th f lhe
a rejection of theater as mere bourgeois entertainment alongside an at; Uture:
revive its sacred character, an artistic asceticism that reno unces .to
f h . . d 1 h '11 d . '"'"
search or aut enttc1ty, an a anguage t at Wl ommate the twentieth
century's most remarkable muste.
M y exploration is not limited to an analysis of the correspondences that e
be found between Parsifal and the diffuse image of medieval heresy
in the drama. lnstead, 1 turn m y focus to a second constellation that tends
10
be forgotten. Wagner's work does not constitute a stable and fixed
in July 1882. On the contrary, over time, the Bhnenweihfestspiel has been
distorted beca use of its multiple interpretations and analysis. Both those who
have been fascinated by Parsifal as well as those who ha ve felt the horror
within its music have irrevocably attached themselves in distinct ways to
the work. Thus we can trace a second constellation to our present: Parsifal
has become a ruin. lt is an object that can be analyzed as Walter Benjamin
analyzed decadent landscapes in his decisive work on ruins, a work itself in
ruins, The Arcades Project.
A Fascination with Gnosticism
Gnosticism
2
has been associated with Christianity from the beginning, like
an shadow deforming its image, but al so, as if in volved in a game
of like a sign revealing that perhaps the deformity occurs within the
Chnsuan Church itself. Gnosticism has been defeated time and time again
and_ to extinction, yet it has unyieldingly reappeared, in
vanous mcarnauons.' First, during the Middle Ages, it appeared as heresy
2
h
1
nm deal with this issue here, it might be convenient to clarify
1
el whch .,' s,peak_ of Gnnsticism. 1 use the term very loosely, referring not
obn y
1
1
lStll>lncal Gnostlcs, who belong to a sect from Christianity's first peri<_>d.
ut a so to a trends and se .
1
h h
mdepcndently of whether oren:) t
31
succeeded_ them in the
These l>Ubs.equent trends !ihare clalm to be _he1rs those "histoncal CJnostJCS.
and that w1\l, 10 ffiO!it lead
10
a !ienes_ of 1deas that challenge the church
are=, above al\,
3
recogmtlon uf a k condemnaton a_nd Among rhese
tu thc= church\; a duah .. t vision of the (gnosu) from and
accurdmK tu Plnrmu\, defincd th: of tho"e de_ments th;tt:
and thc= co!.moo; lt.-.eH tu ht' ev\" tho!.(' that .ffirm thc of th(
l. On" necd not gn far to find explanarion, .
In the marrow of tmr tvrn f on\y tn hoJo: .th1s (;nostu;sm hvt:\
tht"rr 1'1 a more mtrre'ltlllg .md dcrpt"r , New L.uu111. But
nf (,cKIIntn twu J'lt'nun,, un rhe nne hand exp_lanolllnn: "l"hc .. plttflntt
a nupd .md uut'll.re.unr, ltrm .. tu rdlnt a "Plntm u:.mercful 1-"ather, on th('_othcr
K f thr mdiVIdu.11 f.tthtrlmaK('
IMPRINT ON PARSIFAL, AN ILLUMINATION OF RUINS 135
GNOSTIC
rhe church had lost much of its to transform any departure
when d nro heresy it emerged m Its mspiCation of other movements
lrom orrho oxyc:anism, fre;masonry, theosophy, and ritual magic.
chasRoSJcru b . . . h R ..
su .. m reappeared in tterature, egmnmg wtt omantlcJsm 's
Gnos!ICI:olution rransforming art into a substitute for religion. William
aesrhenc re ' d JI h
Biake, Novalis, Grard de Nerval, E gar A an Poe, Ger art H. Hauptmann,
and, naturally, Wagner himself were. among the many authors influenced by
Gnosricism.' Earlier medieval hereSies related to GnostlciSm have.left
Iheir imprint on medieval clasSics, such as Wolfram von Eschenbach s Parzva/,
rhe inspiration for Wagner's drama (Jung and Franz 35).
Gn05ticism in Wagner
Far from being rare in Wagner's oeuvre, Parsifal's Gnostic dualism is a
consranr element in his dramas. This dualism affects more than the plot, as
in rhe rwo obvious examples of Tannhiiuser and The Ring. The drama tic and
musical composition of every Wagnerian drama is also organized around
dual structures. What is peculiar about Parsifa/, however, is not its dualism
or its Gnosticism but, more accurately, rhe exaggeration of rhese elemenrs.
Alrhough 1 could write many pages about this intriguing topic, 1 limit myself
ro pointing out sorne examples of dualistic elements. The entire drama tic
srrucrure rests on the opposition between the worlds of the Grail Knights and
ol Klingsor, on opposite sides of one mountain range. As Wieland Wagner
demonstrated, the arrangement of characters can be represen red as a perfectly
symmetrical cross (28-29). The music is marked by a duality, one rhat
pnmarily regards the powerful opposition berween diaronic and chromaric,
as well as the dichotomy between the themes of !ove and faith. lt introduces
an enigma tic variable into the work's polarities, and in general, the
are structured in binaries: Parsifal repeatedly refers back ro
c?ntrasrs between wisdom and compassion, eros and agape, lance and grarl.
hiStory and myth.
The Monsalvar brotherhood represents the world of a Gnosru: sect rather
ambiguously, given how the rules marked bY an extreme
by their liturgical rites are presented. The set:.tlike may srem
Jntn irs cmouonal ;nmponrnt!>: thr nmt!J,:t of lmr hr..-

rhr
unwns ....tou, mmJ ts rhus symhoh..:alh rrsoh:rJ, anJ rhr I.O.IWIIltl St"nst cd JlUih
11

1
PPt"ao;ed" (llodds 20).
4
Nt"xt ro a .. nnhlr" rra .... r rht"rt"
1
s o&nothtr lrss-"'tintd tht ont rhat fffajs
nto '"histnri;,1J" hnoks, whnS(' popular "Stttin ru rhr hlk.'tnanon
l')(nted hy T'hn, can hr stt"n m wmks ....h .l:lo n,..ll.l
!)6
ENRIQUE GAVILN
from the fact that Wagner's model itself, Wolfram's Parval, prob bl
G
'fl. d' Ywa
composed wirh a srrong nosttc . avor m m.m ..
Parsifal 5 rruly reder:npt1on, but 1s. not new grou?d for Wagner
Redemption, salva non; sm, con?emnauon, hope, and
forgiveness all consutute ?bsess1ve themes m beginning
with Der Hollander. The novelty here. reSides m the fact that
for rhe first rime, rhese themes are explored w1thm an religious
framework, embodied in sorne of the most Chnsnan ceremonies:
consecration, communion, baptism, and uncuon.
However, Parsifal rakes the romantic conception of art as religion ro the
extreme. Wagner deals with this issue in Religion and Art, the text that
the standards for what would be his last drama: "One might say that when
Religion becomes artificial it is the opportunity for Art to save the spirit of
Religion" (Religion and Art 213). Wagner's work sought to give what neither
science nor philosophy nor, to a lesser degree, the church was able to offer:
an experience of the sublime born within the orchestra 's Dionysiac darkness.
However, the culmination of this romantic conception destroyed the latent
ambiguiry in the idea of religion. No longer was it simply about art as
religion but about creating religious art, about staging religion. The drama
is presented notas a straighdorward artistic work but as a sacred ceremony,
Bhnenweihfestspiel. However, this notion of the sublime complicates things
more, since, despite appearances, Parsifal's background is neirher Christian nor
Gnosric bur fundamentally Buddhist. Gnostic symbology, justas in medieval
senings, .is used by Wagner ro pracrice somerhing that goes beyond a simple
compulswn ro the art of disguise and its rendency toward ghostliness.
The Historicist Fantasy of the Nineteenth Century and the Case ofWagner
The nineteenth century was the century of hisrory. Ir promored a craze in
theater, sers, and .wardrobes that al\ wished to represent hisrorical rhemes,
but the va_cillared between rhe desires to portray realism while
Wlth fantastic. Nonetheless, this particular craze was
a ce;; m hlstoricist itch. At least from an outsider's perspective,
e a o":'e or the stage to be transformed into a camouflaged mirror
m the puhhc could recognize itself h"l . f h
identiry of those on the th d f h w
1
e remammg unconsc10us o t e
' ' . o er SI . e o t e fourrh wa\1.
Wagncr s works follow a umque traje r . .
are dramas that accenruate historicism

10
use of history .. There
eJstersmger), works dom1nated
INT ON PARSIMJ., AN (LLUMINATION OF RUIN S 137
THE GNOSTIC MPR
. . f h. wry and the emphatic affirmation of myth (The Ring),
by a rewcnon
1
:he margin of the history/myth dichotomy (Der f/iegende
dramas

where the contrast itself disappears (Parsifa/ and,

Hollander), a tent Tristan) (Gaviln, Mito e historia 205-24 ). From this
ro a distinguish four stages, although always with the caveat
erspecnve
0
h f h. Th h
P h mposer did not count co erence as one o IS v1rtues. ose w o
rhart eco d w ' 1 h h 1 1
wish ro find distinct tren s m . agner s evo unon t at te ear y
rhese stages, or who want co d1scover a perfect connectwn between doctrmal
nouncements and artistic creation, are condemned to frustration.
his aesthetic crisis at midcentury, marked theoretically by the three
grear Zurich

Wagner sha.res the theaters' attitude
roward history. W1th the excepnon of Der Hollander, hJS works
follow the prevailing line of historicism. This is true not only of those works
he acrually wrote, like Rienzi, Tannhiiuser, oc Lohengrin, but also of those
rhat he planned but was not able to compase.
7
In this period's works he
combines a considerable interest in historical rigor and magical elements
)Tannhduser's Venusberg, Lohengrin's world of the Grail). Later, when he
breaks programmatically with the class of romantic opera represented by
rhese works, Wagner tries to defend the coherence of his trajectory, arguing
rhar in those first works, he was revealing rhe mythical dimension of hisrory.
8
In exile Wagner breaks definitely with the sort of opera that he himself had
composed, in the name of a future conceived in anticapitalistic terms. In the
new society brought about by rhe revolution, art would succeed in reviving
the nobility of a Greek art lost in a degraded world whose greatesr expressions
were the novel and the opera in the grand style of Giacomo Meyerbeer. Both
these artistic forms were responses ro society's atomizarion
reducnon of arr to that of mere entertainment. History, the preferred toptc
of these despised forms, could no longer be the essence from which rhe arr of
the future could be born; only from myrh could a drama arise thar perhaps
would overcome rhis siruarion, a new arristic form, or, rhe work of total art.
The displacement of history by myth would be crystallized in Der Ring des
N1belungen.
6
Die Kunst und die Revolution ( t S49), Das 1\unstwerk Jer Zukun(t ! 1 S 50) md
Oper und Drama ( 1 SS t ).
7
Among mhers exisrs an opera ahour jesus Christ and anorher Frede-ru.:k
In thc case of the httter, eve-n prepJ.Ced J. mnsrly spc.,:ulame
hlshlncal" study (Die Wibdun.:en 115-SS). ro
S. suffered from a chronil.: des1re to rC'VISe hls
gve his life an lllusory In a texr from 1 HS l, "Fine
111

freunde," ro his rhre<' works. he ,nh:'mprs ro Cf"\Jehne,
111
mythic tcrms, rhc works helon.tin.t ro rhe prel.'rists l"'t'm>d.
q8
ENRIQUE GAVILN
In Meistersinger Wagner appears to retreat from this comrast of h
history that belongs to his revolutionary phase. Not only does he mbyt nd
h d h a andon
myth, he adopts t e most pomte Istonctsm even greater than
that of his earliest operas. For the first and last ttme Wagner's mature Works
supernatural n?t m Sachs s drama. The only
on stage is the Wahn, rllusron, a dtsquretmg force capable of producing an
or madness, by virtue of unforeseeable factors. Wahn leads to the fight of Sr.
john 's night but also feeds the great art that flowers m Walther von Stolzing's
songs. This singulanty m Metstersmger ts emphastzed by the brusqueness ol
the change not only in relation to previous works but also in contrast with
rhose rhat follow.' In Parsifa/Wagner once again abandons rigorous historical
accuracy to flood the drama with superna rural elements. However, history
does not disappear complerely as ir gives way to myth; rhe drama dresses itsell
in the medieval garb of Lohengrin and of rhe Grail knighrs.
lndeed, the foresr staged in rhe Middle Ages, a favorire set of nineteenth
century fantasies, returns with Parsifa/, as does the struggle between good
and evil, represented with an incisiveness that would be absolute were ir not
thar Kundry belongs to both realms and thar the world of the Grail itself
involves yet another, more insidious, duality, expressed by the music as the
themes of lave and faith. Here Amforras's suffering is contrasred with Titurel's
unyielding faith, indifferent even to his own son's pain. Wagner returns to
the familiar world of Lohengrin, rhe work situated immediately befare his
midcenrury artistic crisis, something rhat the score underlined with sad irony.
Wagner's tendency to disguise the action of his dramas is not limited to
historical settings. The composer himself was rhe first to point out that his
works are grounded in Greek myth. Eros and Psyche in Lohengrin, and
m Der fl1egende Holliinder, are two examples. In these cases, however,
clas!'.acal are disguised by their placement in Germanic, Celtic, medieval,
or settmgs. lt is in this sense that Wolfgang Schadewaldt referred ro
Wagnenan dramas as myrhological palimpsests (167). Perhaps iris in Parsi(al
thts reaches its apogee. At first glance we find the world of the
Gratl pre-.nred m an espe 11 d"fi d lf
d
. . . cta Y mo 1 e manner as L:ompared w1th Wo ram
5
epl(tton. h ts a testamenr t h . .
that des ite Parsi{a/s s .
0
t e histoncast obsessu_m.;;
.
1
P h mdetermmal:y Wa"ner placcs the acuon
precase y m t e mountamou h . ' " .
th h f h
. _s non ern of Gothic Spain. lt is
en, t at or 1s own stagmv (e d d . . d
R h d
1
" onst ere sacred and remamm)!. unch.tngt'
m ayreut urmg a most thirty years, with certain touch-ups only twcnry
[ RINT ON PARSIFAL AN [LLUMINATION OF RUINS 139
THE GNOSTIC MP ,
W tried ro imitare real models, albeit absolutely alien to
years lated
1
rhe acrion occurred: Siena's cathedral for the Grail
rhe Rufolo in Ravello for Klingsor's garden. By this means, the
scenes .an combination of rhe desire for historical exactitude with the
urhorstYP' 1 hl 1 d d
a acy proper ro rhe marve ous-myt o ogtca regtster ts pro uce
nderermm . . d b .
1
. Parsifal. Here the confuswn of eras and settmgs en s up o scunng
agam m . h k' . d' 1 h 1 . .
historical precision w1t out ma mg tt JSappear a toget er, p acmg tt on an
imaginary plane that is nonetheless aurhent1c for spectators msofar as Jt JS able
10
evoke real images and allows for the ghosrhness of the real and unreal ro
floar rogether for a while in the Festspielhaus (Gaviln, "De la Supervivencia
de Eva" 264).
Bur underneath the world of Monsalvat, represented with the colors of
"medieval Spain" transmuted into the images of Siena and Ravello, there are,
in lacr, orher worlds. Ir is not difficult ro discover a Filo-Gnostic sect in the
Grail's brotherhood, whose heretical resonances were perhaps airead y present
in Wolfram. In any case, Wagner further emphasizes those characteristics,
converring the devaluation of the sensible world and the existence of secret
knowledge, whose acquisition is the quest of the drama, into central elements
ol his work. Even deeper, as always in Wagner, lies the less obvious but still
relarively easy-to-detect Greek myth. The suffering Amfortas, probably the
work's most central figure, is the retlection of a chained Prometheus, just as
Parsifal assumes the role of Heracles, and so on. But the disguises continue.
11 one explores at greater depth, under Christian symbology, even beneath its
Gnostic heterodoxy, one tinds a Buddhist drama. However, we must not forget
rhar Parsifa/ occupies the space reserved lar Die Sieger, rhe Buddhist opera that
was unable or unwilling ro compase. Wagner uses an oriental palene
'"Parsi(al in a completely different way when compared with rhe nineteenth
usual "orientalist" tones. Most probably ir was predsely of
5
repugnance for the oriental coloring of many of rhe operas wtth lnd1an
such as The Afric:an Maid by Meyerbeer, rhar Wagne"r ne"ver wrote
(Gaviln, Prometen 211-55) .
. _Wagner's fondness for disguise would an imporrant in
Nietzsche's rejection of him. for Nietzsdle, all thJ.t is rums
an unbearable Nietzsche not onlv dismisses the medieval JIS
mtolerahle hut also deems worse the fraudulent attempr ro a h:-snv.al
as as Rayrl'Uth as "popular." The the s.acrt"'.J hill

havt" heen trom its origins, as ir is now, lJUltt" rhe opposltr of d ropular rnp.
W.Tht nf whoH Wotl!. \.'OI1Mdt"rrd 1s t''II:Jlrt"Ssrd hl"T'(' 111 <mf' of lh
m.my rwrver,ions: "llopul.u" usi."J w hilVf' morT o; rht' Sf'llst" t)t .11Urh('nn..:
tnr th" pt'nplt', an t'Mit'lll..'t' rhar ht'l'lll ro llf' lost 111 nul\krn ""'-'h
a" 1\JYfC"uth tnrJ tn anJ rt"VIfJihJt' rhu, drmrnt m naltuR': .. l'urulanutuln
ENRIQUE GAVILN
This presenr as it is. in the idea of the festival, has
contributed w1rhout a doubt to the nattonal-soetahst use of Wagner's Work
However, rhi.s toward and had so irritated
anti-Wagnenan Nietzsche possesses m Pars1{al an tmperat1ve elemem of t h
one rhat rhe philosopher was unable to recognize. Theodor Adorno poinr:ur
Nietzsche's inability to understand Wagner's hi.storical peculiarity by
him an impostor: "Great works of art cannot he. E ven when their contenr!
appearance, they necessarily contain a attested to by the an works; the
only uncet!lin ones are those that fail" (Asthetische Theorie 196). Parsi{al's
inauthenticity reflects and expresses society's inauthenticity: "Parsi(al's trurh
resides in its lack of truth" (Adorno, On the Score 386).
Although the Bhnenweihfestspiel is a work full of fabrication where
masks are superimposed in a succession of layers that defy classification, it
simultaneously contains elements that refute what is false in them. Parsi{al
achieves a double gestute: its own improbability speaks the truth about the
falsities that run through it and, in doing so, says things that ring closer to
the truth about his society and about our own than did Nietzsche's texts,
denouncing those falsehoods. What is revealing about the Bhnenweihfestspiel
is how the proliferation of disguises is joined with the renunciation of effects.
In his last work Wagner adopts a musical and dramatic asceticisrn (not
even calling it a drama) so intense that it tends to be misunderstood. The
cornbination is so disconcerting that ir often escapes notice. Nietzsche, for
exarnple, perceived it, although he was unable to understand ir (Borchrneyer
and .851). Adorno points out how Wagner renounces sorne of
musJcal dev1ces he had learned to use with maximum effectiveness in
hls dramas, such as capacity for transitions and dynamic impulse (On
the Score 384). ParSifal's ghostliness ends up refuting itself: "One believes
as httle
10
the as in a fairy tale. Especially in the third acta
perernptory tone IS comparison, Parsifal's deed of redemption
seehms Sctohbe mehre Jl\usmn and impotent; in the end Wagner is more faithful
to IS open auer" (386). '
Wagner's douhle gesture of p . . .
ir rhe m th
1
Id k a ghostliness wh1le denymg
eans a wou rna e lt m 1
of Parsi(al in its relation to histor ore applies to .a !l. rhe rea ms
evocation of the medieval Id l' to Crn?stlcJsm, and to dJssJdence. The
Grail knights do not belon w;>r not 10clude nationalist allusions; the
VolksgeiSt. Wa"ner del,hge
0
1
alny er.manic peoples or any other ancestral
" ra e y av<uds 1
funclamcntally Buddhist opera, a tactic rh an flentahst approach m liS
at would ha ve addeJ mystery and
wa'i undt"T'iWod md1vidually, m 1 k
commeruahzatlon"' (h:kert 761. nre
1
t' a temcdy against m.lss culrurt' ;Htd
I PRINT ON PARS/MJ., AN lLLUMINATION OF RUINS '4'
THE GNOSTIC M
. ness in its own rime. Generally unnoticed in Wagner's plot is his
arrracrrve 1 esoteric elements such as the Grail, the brotherhood hidden
pecu/wr use of the forest, mysterious rituals, and the quest, material rhat
in a secrer p;bolism. This representation was immensely appealing in its time,
said that this attractiveness has not been completely lost il one
andrrcan h Th D V" . C d W h d
considers phenomena suc as _e a znct o e .. agner, owever, .oes not
rry ro exploit sensacional narra non. _From the everythmg that
Wa ner could ha ve kept enveloped m mystery IS explamed as an elemental
wa:
10
crea te suspense, allowing lor the work 10 be accepted by a particular
public. In lact, the only importan! enigma that is presented-and resolved, in
rhis sense-is in the prelude's music. On the other hand, as Adorno pointed
our, rhe voluntary absence of drama tic tension is precisely reflected in the
music.
Parsilal as Process of Knowledge
The rruth that Adorno discovers in Parsi(al, that it is a work where lies
do not lie, illuminates the meaning ol the drama. Wagner's last work is
constructed around the paradoxes of knowledge and ignorance, and their
reciprocal indeterminacy. This clue is already present in the title "Parsifal,"
meaning "completely idiotic."
11
The drama 's action hinges on rhe way that
a."pure fool" becomes wise and, as in fairy tales, becomes the communiry's
kmg and redeemer. The Bhnenweihfestspiel represents a singular process ol
perhaps one that is the most rare, beca use irs peculiar form of
gnosts had to have allected those sitting in the Festspie/haus's amphitheater.
ParsJfal represents an apprenticeship from which participants in irs mysrery
must learn. As I show, its meaning is also the paradox ol the ladder at the end
ol the Tractatus (Wittgenstein 85).
Something other than artistic ambition lurks in this arrangement; Wagner
had formula red his program in Religion und Art. Church institutions had lost
ther capacity to instruct. They were unable ro reach the trurh of a religion
had been reduced to a series of dogmas whose dryness pr(woked only
red mm and unreality. Ir was rime for art ro rescue rhe essence of religion.
Only 3 new form uf art could offer its redemptive rruth in living symhols.
ll. In Wagner a nanll''s meoming ttnds ro determine rhe chara..:rer's Jenmy. lll r.h
1
s
sense a decisive and vulnerable elcmenr rh.lf can ht arrribured to hl!> or her
l.ohengrin hingc!> on tht prohihirion ,
1
g,1inst .1skmg rhe hero's na me. p,,rstf'' rtpnse.nf!>
the. proce-.s rraced from rhe forgttting of one's own na me ro thl" ulrim.Ht' undtrsr.mJmg
0
.f lt\ lllt'.lning, as not simply "foolishmss" but also "thosen," sin .. e <.mly "der
lor" heing "wiSSt'llll." here !> on rhe lit "Tor
'
1
s "foohsh" and alsu as "dnnr."
ENRIQUE GAVILN
Drama in particular, or to be exact in a Wagnerian sense, the insenion
music in the drama, would rescue these symbols by bestowing
00
th of
. W ' H . emanew
power ro shock. Once agam agner s ege 1amsm reappears: an as te!' . ,
Aufhebung.In a way, the artist became the heir of dissidents who
Christian history had tried 10 revive a truth from which churches tend dout
distance themselves. The main difference for the nineteenth-century artis;
10
that the risks were less than those taken by the thirteenth-century
worst, the marginalization of art as a representation of bohemianism. 'at
Two forms of knowledge are presented and contrasted in Parsifal. The first
is authentic knowledge, the result of a process that leads to the discovery
0

a suffering that fotms the nucleus of identiry itself and, through this, that
0

the other's suffering as well. This is truth as an awakening from principium
individuationis and is accessible only to the innocent who ignores his own
name. Next to this compassionate gnosis, the only form of knowledge that
can go beyond the ignorance of mere individual identity, Parsifal offers
another form of knowledge, chiefly narrative knowledge, the kind displayed
by Gurnemanz, Klingsor, or Kundry. lt is not going too far 10 identify this
knowledge with nineteenth-century historicism, that is, with a sort of fantasy
that is also the drama itself.
12
In principie the work would seem to disqualify this sort of knowledge, since
all who are led by it err, arriving at dead-ends. This includes Gurnemanz, who
is incapable of recognizing Parsifal as the elect. Parsifal shows up what is
contradictory, insipid, and, finally, useless or counterproductive in those forms
of knowledge that do not derive from a compassionate perception of others'
suffering. However, the action of the Bhnenweihfestpiel does not deny the
efficacy and necessiry of historical knowledge. Parsifal interweaves all sorts of
stones about the past, making it difficult 10 support the thesis that the drama
seeks
10
diSquahfy them. What is disqualified is the ultima te meaning they tend
to

for themselves. In most cases, the function of these stories is not so

much mformative as performative; the stories form part of a liturgy, or they
are argumenrs that seek to cena in effects, or they are u sed to
One that thts son of historical knowledge, unconscious of tts
o;n hmtts, mtght bel?ng as much to churches (Gurnemanz) as to the sects
t h at oppose them (Kimgsor), white and black magic being the two faces of
e samel sort. ohf tgnorance. Only someone who could traverse both worlds
mnocent y, Wlt out anachment Id b bl 1 d
Th d' l"fi . e a e to reach authentic know e ge.
b
ef tsqua 1 of trust m dtscursive knowledge in favor of a gnosis
orn rom compasston does not si fy h d
. d' . . 1 ffi gnt t at using emotion as a gut e ts
m tscnmmate y a rmed. Parsi{al recre h ..
eros and agape. The hero can fulfill t tradtttonal opposition
15
destmy hecause he is able to restsl
12. This could ht- anorher way of presentmg Ador , .
nos thes1s: P!lrsi{al as true lie.
INT ON PARSIFAL, AN ILLUMINATION OF RUINS 143
THE GNOSTIC MPR
h of eros without ignoring irs inspirarion, Ku?dry's kiss. There is
rh< srr<ngt uous rhough nor less eloquent, equanon. Amfonas needs
rh
J<ssconsprc , h h bl
ano " d but so does Kundry. She knows rhar only e w o is a e ro
ro b< redeem.s;ible charm will be able ro save her.
13
Ar rhe end of rhe second
her rrresr d ' k. h 11 bl
h Parsifal awakes rhrough Kun ry s rss ro restsr er usua y trrestsrt e
act.d w en rhe wise woman adoprs an irrarional arrirude. She wanrs ro be
se uctron, . "f 1 d b h .
saved, which is possible only tf Parst a, oes nor succum ro . er attracnon,
but ar rhe same rime she wanrs ParSlfal s love, wh1ch tf she attamed tr, would
alce her salvarion imposstble. In rhts way her wtsdom seems superfluous. Ir
:oes not allow her awareness of rhe obvious contradicrion: if she seduces rhe
hero, she condemns herself. Kundry's behavior becomes a meraphor for love's
aporia. Professor Levy of Crimes and Misdemeanors, a convincing Primo Levi
invenred by Woody Allen, sums up in lapidary fashion rhe irrarionary of rhe
/ove quest, and Kundry, in rhe rhird acr, becomes irs universal symbol. For ir
is in the loved one rhar we seek an inlluenrial person from our infancy, yer we
want him or her ro acr differently from how rhar person really acred, which is
contradictory, since, were we to obtain what we wanted and were our loved
one to behave in rhe way we wished for, he or she would cease ro be the image
we so desired.
Wagner is less analytic rhan rhis; his power of convicrion comes from the
muSic. From among rhe whirlwind of associations creared by the orchestra
durrng Kundry's inrervenrion (suffering, hope, redemption) 1 emphasize just
one. Once her arsenal of seduction is used up, Kundry's yearning for the
hero does not diminish but, rather, beco mes more intense, until that yeaming
overwhelms her when Parsifal asks her ro lead him ro Amforras. Corroded by
a Jealousy so grear caused by an individual whom she despises, Kundry, wise
enough to understand Parsifal, appeals precisely ro bis compassion ("Mitleid!
Muletd mit mir! 1 nuc eine Stunde mein" ). In the orchestra, however, we hear
the Blumenmiidchen morif, even though ir is disrorted. Logically, compassion
'" the mourh of Kundry is, above all, a device ro seduce rhe hero. Parsifal's
merey musr be awakened not by desire but bv rhe suffering she undergoes,
and it is merey that must lead him ro reject he; embrace.
The drama's extraordinary symmetry offers an equivalent ro Kundry's
madness in Amfortas, who is dominated by the impulse of death and forced
ro ce.lebrare a Grail ceremony rhar returns his vital force ro him onh to st-t
of.f hJs conrinued suffering from the wound caused by eros's power. The spear
wrll finally close the cirde of paradoxes. Kundry and Amforras are led to the
dead-end because rhey are in rhrall w rhe same emotion: rhe desll"(' for
theu own salvarion.
1
.l can dominatr hrr w1th his magic hr h' hlmsdf: M
hves m a liminal spacr whrrr d"irc" prrsisn hut can no lnngt"r hr "-"hiN.
ENRIQUE GAVILN
A major part of the extraordinary complexity of the said work is th ..
constructed in such a way that makes ir impossible to be reduced to at
11
"
. w 1 1 b d .
propositions. Todo thiS wou, 1mp y not on y a sur reducuonism but also
any attempt to force Pars1(al s meamng mto a senes of theses: Propositions
such as agape > eros, discursive knowledge < compassionate knowledge
would be false or inexact, because the paradoxtcal construction of the dra
questions these propositions and the subversive power of music
them. In the example quoted above, even though agape is superior to ero:
rhe former is possible only beca use of the latter's intervention (the
"Prometeo" 1 explained how the last eh o rus of Erlosung dem Er/oser not only
posirions us befare an open ending or, even worse, a circular one (the shape
of the labyrinth), but also forces us ro question the action onstage. This final
chorus is equivalen! ro the metaphor of the ladder at the end of Wittgenstein's
Tractatus.
14
The strange drama conceived by Wagner not only speaks to us about
something that is external-knowledge and its paradoxes-but also about
something rhat is construcred so that we as audience experience the process
of revelation within ourselves. We recognize the staged drama for the illusion
1 Vorstellung) that it is while the truth born from the music acts directly on us.
In this same sense, in "Prometeo . ." it is explained that the transformation
that surges from the Bhnenweihfestspiel is not cathartic but, rather, related
to the capacity to recognize the occurrences on stage as illusion, to see in
them a .. mere Vorstellung ... sheer appearance . In the final instance, the
redemption called for by the chorus also resides in awakening from deceit,
thereby gaining the ability to attain ultimare reality. The voice of the Will can
hear ltself only m the music." The spectator must also free himself from the
illusion, th.at is,. the stage's illusion, through the stage itself! Justas
eros
5
power functlons m Parsifal, theater is a form of illusion that helps us
free ourselves from il1usion itself.
ap.pears to be astounding foreshadowing in the stage directions for
tEhe begmhnmg of the first act: Wald, schattig und ernst doch nicht dster .
. me Lrc tung m der Mme ("A f h d '
A clearin in the center" orest, s a. y and forbidding, yet not_
in the of "'W Id"'). than an tnteresting coincidence,
;.e
eanng .Jc tung) whe
1
e of
demono;tration and ohscuring takes plac h re a stmu taneous gam .
(the Greek term aletheia, translated w e.re truth arises as a
y Heidegger as Unverborgenhett,
14. by the fact that the wmposer on. . f
dem 1-.rlmer wao rhe .. content" of Parst(al to Cosima rhat ErWsung
agebkcher 866),
. ") (40). The philosopher's rexr, which ar firsr glance seems so
Wagner's world of rhe Grail, helps us better perceive rhe play of
dJStant ;";.rkness, how Parsifal presenrs rhe acquisirion of knowledge rhar
jght appear enveloped in darkness and rhar envelops darkness in irself.
canon Y h n 1 d H 'd b h
1
seems improbable r ar rarsta mspore e1 egger, ur r e gnosts
tcturing the drama appears in a new lighr. The drama, represenring an
srru . .
apprenticeship full of paradoxes-rhe rectprocal game between demonsrratlon
and obscuring-literally develops on a srage defined as "a clearing in the
centre ola shady lorest." The truth is seen as disclosure, bur nor as lighr that
might definirively dissolve rhe fog. The disclosure occurs; ir erases shadows
but also creares rhem ("makes darkness itself conscious"). Parsifal's long
wandering alter attaining knowledge ar Kundry's side, alrhough he is ignorant
ol the path to Amlortas, is expressed in rhe prelude ro rhe rhird acr in music
that translares and elevares rhe drama of lighr and darkness. The orchesrra
evokes this interminable wandering in rhe middle of rhe wasreland, which
has extended lrom rhe ruins of rhe enchanted garden rhroughour the world.
Wagner said ol rhis prelude: "no light [Licht] musr cross ir." The clearing
will open again only as rhe resulr of Tirurel's sacrifice on Holy Friday, in the
same way that rhe firsr entry inro rhe clearing was rhe consequence ol rhe
swan's sacrifice. Borh dearhs are provoked by rhe hero as a consequence of his
1gnorance-ol rhe significance of dearh, in rhe case ol rhe swan; of the parh
to Amfortas, in Titurei's.
The play of lighr and dark is presenred in anorher lorm larer, when Parsifal,
now complerely covered by black armor and a helmer wirh a closed visor
(Er ist ganz in schwarzer Waffenrstung: mit geschlossenem He/me .),
reappears finally in the clearing. The spear he carries represents his vicrory
over Klingsor and echoes an even more decisive vicrory over himself; rhis
spear is an instrument of aggression bur useless in combar, symbol of his new
knowledge and, at the same time, expression of his impotence. The uncertain
G repeated in the kettledrum-marked schwer in the score-perceived through
the luminous srrings that had announced the charmed theme of Holy Friday
marks the hero's appearance. The kettledrum's heavy sound seems to invoke
the darkness again so it might reappear with Parsifal., in
black armor, but the music intensifies rhe ambiguity ot the dramatK snuan?n
while denying it. The composer told Cosima that ir was the most beauritul
music he had ever written.
The Gaze from the Present: Ruins
As gcnuine heirs of a n<trcissist culture. we struggle tll up rhe helie(
thar wc occupy rhe unmovablt point of rhe rurning wheel, we. tenJ.ro
the past as if our ga;re were on rhe oursidt of time. the umrh ot
1
statK
ENRIQUE GAVILN
and eterna! science, and thus we have absorbed the scientisr's t'
1
. d d
arrogance. Forgettmg quantum para oxes, we ten not to pay attentio
rhe investigating subject, who is possibly even more decisive, in the studn

rhe past. When dealing with Wagner's tendency that leans toward histo y
0
1
f h d
. . f h nca
fantasy, we are apt to orget anot er tmenswn o t at game of mirrors and
ro wit, its relationship to our present. This is to say, the way in which rhe pas;
in medieval disgmse appears m a present through whiCh other sorts of ghosts
circulare. The study of the nineteenth century's historical obsession with the
invocation of an imaginary Middle Age should not make us lose sight of the
play of planes. Equally as important as the analysis of Wagner's medieval
fantasy is how we hear, interpret, or destroy a work from the past.
Neither Parsifal, Gnosticism, the Middle Ages, nor the myths that permeate
the musical dramas can be seen as static objects. A long time has passed
since Parsifal was simply considered the Bhnenweihfestspiel conceived by
Wagner. lt is not only that its ceremonial si de has been degraded but also that
it has been reduced to ruin. This ruined state results from its natural ageing
but also from everything that the twentieth century has projected onto it.
to this, what happens to the drama occurs within its musical material,
as explained by Adorno. The whole historical process weighs on it. In any
composition, each interval, each chord, and each color is saturated by al\ its
prevtous app_earances.lt is inevitable that every tlme rhe composer introduces
an element, tts uses are present as phantoms (Adorno, Phi/osophie
der neuen Mu,.k 38). This easily occurs in the case of a work with artistic
toward the sublime, such as Parsifal conceived of as a sacred
drama. Today one cann t h h ' d.
f
.
0
ear tt wtt out also hearing the resoun mg vmces
o those who WIShed to t f h 1 '
b 1 E
. rans orm t e Gratl's re1gn into a mtllenma emptre 5
sym o ven 1f these and th h f
h h
0
er assoctatlons offer productive approac es or
stagmg, t ey ave also e b d
d
. ontn ute to the exhaustion of rhe drama's arttsnc
energy an tts transforma to . h
time can contribute to the The associations accumulated
laughter or a very d
1
gradauon of Parsifal's sacred side, provokmg
eremsonof r f . . ,
Toda y, a represemation f . P Y rom that by Amfortas s pam.
what souuhr b arsrbfa
1
.
1
avoid the sort of triviality that
. rt , e su lme mt b
Ir 1s not easy for a staged co t
1
.
0
an a surd ceremony.
of time. M y experience
31100
o! the Grail's mystery to escape rhe
where !.lages the actio:"o; even in Spain, the place
produwnn hy the Ber\in Ope
1
uhnenwerhfestspiel. l'or example, a
h 1
. . ra, exce lent b h f f .
t eatnca pomt of VICW, hy Bernd Fi rom a musical and '
1
Teatro la (who'tt" hu tUi h . ch,nger and Daniel Barenho101
10
Naetz\l.:he ammuniuon for malignant 1 \lo tln\l.connorations wouiJ have given
Par\ifal) mlfl,ht ha ve bcen grotesquely p. ay to thc imtge of Carlllen
to to rhe. work an accusromed
e Qu&ntero hrothc:rs, frorn whose
IMPRINT oN PARSIFAt, AN ILLUMINATION OF RuiNs 147
THE GNOSTIC
1 will save the reader. That audience was able to completely
og;velous ending of rhe third act with its untimely applause (one
destroy
1
1
' rhe !ove for clapping in those latitudes) until Barenboim
knows,oco ' f 1 h d
. d rop rhem with his authontative baton. Un ortunate y t e amage
ros . f h .
h d been done. It took me a long time to recover rom t e trauma. Every time
1
:ear the finale, 1 cannot avoid thinking "this is where the applause began in
Seville," and 1 am promptly nausea red. E ven worse was another production
in the Teatro Real, since, besides being on a generally inferior artistic leve!, it
showcased Plcido Domingo, given over to his corny inclinatons, parading
onstage in sorne sort of surgeon's pajamas, with those hateful gestures that
no stage director has ever been able to tame out of him, evincing an excessve
pathos that reminds one of television cartoons. His absurd and convulsive
movements invade the stage with ridiculousness, awakening the invincible
impression ol ruins given off by the erstwhile Bhnenweihfestspiel.
On the other hand, des pite this triviality, despte the extraordinary difliculties
posed lor interpreters as well as for spectators, Parsifal has been staged in
opera theaters all over the world with increasing frequency. This recurrence
""" the question, what is there in Parsifal that still piques interest, despite
the mevitable ageing of the Grail's world? This question is even more striking
because the most interesting performances among those 1 ha ve seen (Harry
Kupler, Klaus Michael Grber, Nikolaus Lehnhof, Bernd Eichinger) tend not
gloss over the state of ruin but, rather, to emphasize it. lt could be said
t at they mortify the drama, in Benjamin's sense, 15 that is, that they do not
emphaSIZe the possibility of its aflirmative side such as the hero's exaltation
Rather, .rhe drama 's precariousness, sordi_dness,
nhkelmess are preciSely what make rhe a rum.
b As Benjamn learned from the surrealists, a game is produced in ruins
etween darkness and illumination (once again the truth of rhe past is
as aletheia) that permits rhe eluding of history's strairjacket. The
;arte red invocation of Gnosricism 's old ghosts roda y beco mes rhe occasion
bor
3
3
fat sin,ger unleash with impuni.ry gesrures
Y dream s rum. However: what BenJamm sought m old arcades can ex1st
in the worn shadow ceremony where time rransforms into space.
thn the ruins one still hears, although muftled, unfulfilled, or perhaps
unfulfillahle, dreams, whose remains allow for the oc,;asion ro glance c..l\'er the
Past, in hopes that they might he as forgotren emhers. The key ro rhis
--
IS . . ro interpn.t;ttvc rransformMum of rhe h.troqut" TrJuersptt'l.
BenJamm san, "Till' nf e;arhcr dimi ishes da.ttdt" hr Jt"C,,de. inro
thc.. hohls fnr, .t rehirth, in otll t'phc..mer.tl l')("dllf)' IS nmtpl("tdy srnpf'('J oft, .tnd
the Work srands as a ruin" ( 1 Hl ).
ENRIQUE GAVILN
redeeming glance lies in the. "direct" access to the past permitted by the rui
but it requires a gaze that wtiiiSolate tt from hiStonciSt construction f n,
attempt to "recount that what really happened." Benjamin unmasked the
of narration as another way that conquerors para de befo re us,
their triumph by extinguishing the memory of the vanquished. However 'llng
f h d Th h' d ,rutns
can allow rhe rescumg o t etr reams.. e evoted ro this Work
moves among the residue of the past hke a ragptcker rummaging throu h
refuse in the streets. g
In any case, there is a decisive difference between the Bhnenweihfestspie/
and the ruins of arcades. Parsifal is originally conceived as a ruin, as a final
work. 1t is imbued with a sense of exhaustion, of the invincible decadence
at the end of the century, present in the tone that penetra tes to the score's
marrow. Adorno wrote the most revealing pages ever written about Parsi(al
underscoring that tone:
As a consequence of their allegorical content, these motlfs are as
though consumed from within, ascetic, emaciated, desensualized;
like the Parsifal idiom in general, they are all somewhat fractured
and inessential; the music wears a black visor . ... A comparison
of the gloomy, so to speak, muted fanfare motif of Parsifal with
the Siegfried motif reveals the character of the former: the Parsifal
motif seems as though it were already a quotation from memory.
(On the Score 384-85)
Ruin is present in rhis tensionless drama, reduced to the stasis of oratorio.
the "maestro of transition," renounces musical progression until he
arnv_es at music where time slowed down finally stops. He risks
scemc effects (mcludmg the dove and the swan) more appropriate to liturgical
than the work of a theater's genius, writing ata time when theatrical
realosm was m the ascend B h' 11
h fi 1
. am. ut t ts renunctatton ts expressed above a tn
t e na &rony of Er/i;sung d E h h
heard and seen durin h r oser' a e o rus that q uesuons eve_ryt mg
be d h g t e previOus four hours. In Benjaminian terms tt could
t at a secret date with future generations is already encoded in rhe
To approa4;;h Pars1(al as a ruin . . . . .
transforming it nto
3
documem to tt,_ ts,
discourse. Perhaps the
11
mea_mng through _1ts mto
side 1-tano;-.Jrgen Syberher , fil explorauon of 1ts rumous
the '"mortifying" lne of latg s md, w style has decisivcly influem:ed
. er pro ucttons A k . d. y
at:t:omph11hmcm pre4;;i5ely in the fa(:t th . . e y to cxtraor
Not only does a nto film of
3
dram:t _
1
r with thc audtence.
fulfillmcnt required auJ1ence presen4;;e as. a t:eremony whos_t
the dramas but ll
f RINT ON PARSIMI., AN ILLUMINATION OF RUINS 149
THE GNOSTIC MP
h t constitutes the weak spot of any mortifying strategy: the
also alludeshto w aficionado--a Wagnerian or, even more harmful, an opera
. onofr egoo bl d . . . 1
posrtr asr-who, in a virrually inevita e ten s to a reverentta
enrhuSI b
1
e rhe work, trying to behold 1t as an Amstic Monument, or
awrude e oc .
35
a Hisronc Monument.
worse, Syberberg's unending display of images, the decisive une is the stage
. Alfmongg
1
gantic funeral mask of Wagner on which the action takes place: a
'"',a 1 h f b h
receprade for the Gra1f, an abso ute metap or or rum. However, y t e
10
ken, iris rhe Lichtung that o ver t1me permlts the d1sclosure of Its truth. lt 1s,
in irs essence, the true unveiling.
Conclusion
The rime has come to return ro the initial question, how is the past present
in Parsifal? lt is clear that the drama does not celebrare a monumentalized
pasr or rry to invert the same through an identification with the vanquished,
hererics in this case, through the game of mirrors permitted by Gnostic
associarions. Let us not forget that despite any Gnostic essence exuded by the
Grail's community, Klingsor is the true heretic.
The relationship with the past is not reduced ro a negation of linear rime
oc ro the romantic affirmation of circular rime where the past, or its essence,
rerurns. lnstead, the repetition of Amfortas's adventure is so that his fauft
can be corrected by Parsifal's resistance ro seduction; the sacred spear that
heals rhe very wound it opened. These instances close a circle whife anorher
15
exposed (Erlosung dem Erloser). The relarionship wirh rhe pasr is nor
reduced ro reaffirming myrh and irs temporality, nor is ir fimired ro negaring
nme as a mere iffusion. Wirhout a doubr these ideas are ar rhe base of rhe
Bhnenweihfestspiel, '
6
bur rhey do not offer enough ro explain rhe recurrence
of hJSroricist lanrasy.
Kundry's behavior in the third act her final silence for example, consrirures
an enigma wirhin a fundamentally hermetic work. Her silence contrasts with
her seductive loquacity in the second act as well as with her ability in the
first act to answer questions about Parsifal's unknown identity. In general,
Women in Wagner are like Homeric sirens, receptacles of past knowledge,
narrative wisdom, and supernatural power displayed time and time again by
characters such as Frda the Norns rhe Rhinemaidens Brnnhilde, Waltraure.
Venus, and In rhe' first two acts voice retains rhe
Slrens' power, the irresistible fon.:e of rheir song and rheir capaciry ro rccounr
the past, whose echo resounds wirh force in rhe seducrion scene of rhe Sl"Cond
16, (;avhin ... l'romerLo."
ENRIQUE GAVILN
acr. The woman's silent is emphasized in the third act because .
the previous acts, all sorts of stones, theological reflections aboutrh '"'"
of the Passion (present even in nature, Das merkt nun Ha/m und
den Auen), and funeral songs remembering the old dead hero pass th:"' 1
Although Kundry is quiet in the final act, she remains active onstage
shadow floats in the orchestraY an "
Kundry's _final silence becomes especially important when Parsi(a/ is
compared w1th prevmus dramas. Parsrfal mverts the usual Situation, beginnin
with Der fliegende Holliinder, where the hero seeks a salvation that only:
woman can deliver. In the Bhnenweihfestspiel it is the woman who seeks
and finds redemption through the hero. Furthermore, with Parsifal Wagner
returns to the Grail knights' world, to Lohengrin, the opera that preceded his
midcentury crisis. There is kinship not only in the fable but also in the music.
From its initial tonaliry (Parsifal's turbid A-flat major as against Lohengrin's
brilliant A major) Parsifal's score alludes, sometimes ironically, yet sometimes
quietly, to the romantic opera. Parsifal inverts the relationships between
identity, knowledge, and secrecy that are present in Lohengrin. The romantic
opera remains hinged on the necessity of maintaining the hero's secret idemiry,
since its revelation would signify the loss of his supernatural power. Only the
heroine could know it, but rhe question had been forbidden to her. Elsa does
not resist rhe temptation and provokes her own as well as her people's disgrace:
the loss of the beloved and protector. Parsifal does not know who he is beyond
the vague memories of his mother. During Gurnemanz's ritual interrogation
of Parsifal it is Kundry, inhabiting the structural role of Elsa, who reveals
the protagonist's identity. She also reveals his secret name, the one his father,
Gamuret, gave him at the moment of his death in the East. This knowledge is
essential. during her attempt to seduce the innocent hero, since it allows her w
return h1m to the past and occupy his morher's irresistible posltion.
The return to Lohengrin's themarics could be lnterpreted as history's return,
or ar leasr as a rerurn roan undefined place in respect to the historicaVmyrhical
borders that Wagner had tried to so clearly fix in the middle of the century.
The world of Monsal t . d h" but
. h va
1
S prec1se y s1tuared m geography an asrory,
ht .
h rom t e mear t1me of historicism-they are cross
Wlt c1rcular conceprion f h . . . h t to
k d s
0
time: t e poss1b1hty of returning ro t e pas
ma e s, the ki_ng's periodlcal suhstitution metempsychosis and rhe
t at 1s not of h1stor h f - d t
doe!i not signify the e.nd
0
SaJ?1sara .. Ku_ndry's silence in the rh1r _ac
as iu danical modd, Parsfal_ls a_s by narranon
' Unbound. St<mes that display
1
NT ON PARSIFAL, AN ILLUMINATION OF RUINS 151
THE GNOSTIC MPRI
d
ne rhe action. The power of these stories is, however,
he past eterrnJ d . d h 1 h
abo"'' ll ' rmative rhe stories are not estme so mue ro revea t e
d
menta y peno ' d 1 Th
!un a d determina te effects: ntual, d1 acnc, mag1ca , or eronc. ey
asropro uce . . d . A
P"' 11 ceremonial and lead to the eh osen 's mvocation or se ucnon. t
areessentia Y d f h B h 1
through its irony and para ox, pi ars o t e u nenwet 1estspte,
anydrare, atic development questions again and again the story's ultima te
rhe ram . . h
retensions about rhe past as gnos1s. The final silence of she who knows t e
P swer ro all of the questions represents another paradox: the Impotence of
and discursive knowledge for salvation and, at the same time, the need
lor
1
his knowledge as one precondition for eterna! redemption. The historical
knowledge that the woman incarnares is reduced ro muteness. From its birth
Parsifal is a ruin.
Heidegger's observations about truth in the clearing of the forest (Lichtung),
play between light and darkness, unveiling and hiding, help us understand
how Parsifal makes the past present. The clearing acts as a threshold in time
where one finds the Middle Ages, heresy, and rhe other ways in which Wagner
invoked the past, in a drama that is central ro rhe "century of history," where
one discovers how our present-a postmodernism rhat has recognized the
impossibility of escaping from history and rirelessly seeks other ways ro
conjure ir up-is related ro the past that is enveloped in Parsifal. In effect, this
aspect of the drama also functions as Lichtung in Heidegger's sense: clarity
asan mseparable effect of darkness; the clearing appears in the forest, and
mversely, the clearing reveals rhe darkness rhat surrounds ir.
. Parsifal does not simply creare an illumination of the past in the sense thar
" allows for a better understanding of the Middle Ages or the ninereenrh
.nor does ir help penetrare Gnosticism, revealing new angJes of
? servatton, hidden until now, or opening rhe past ro a new undersranding,
Ro.rtian sense.
18
Parsifal illuminates a darkness in the pasr. rhe need to
1t and the impossibility of doing so; it is a dream rhat demonstrares
r e llmus of dreams. In this sense rhe drama consrirures a clearing rhar makes
darkness. Parsifal allows for rhe discovery of the pasr's opacity and for
IrreducJbihty of rhe Middle Ages rhat so obsessed rhe nmeteenrh ...-nrury.
Ir reveals rhe fascinarion of those who creared rhe drama or rhose who feJr
enrhusiasric, disconcerted. or bored bv ir. The illuminatt's
those dreams and reveals for us need for hisrorical f.:mmsy l'lur. at tht'
same time, ir reveals rhe impossihilirv of fulfillinM: ir. 1t is a ruin, not an epi.:.
lt exposes rhe impulse of masking l;neself wirh the dorhes ot rhe ptsr . .1nd
---
IH. rn Rnrty, (m our ,;a!it" WC' "A'nuld hruoukn l1tnt1111" ro
gC'nrral) npen!i a undt:nrandm- ul rhnlliJlh
th.n orc.-n our SC'Os.lhlllt\' rnward othtn. ,;untnhurma 10 rhrs n ro
lj2
ENRIQUE GAVILN
shows, at the same time, the mask 's precariousness, and so the rui .
. . h. M . nunvels h
imposStbthty of conunng up IStory. ost Importan ti y, th15 discove h ' e
understand our own opacity; the nineteenth century's impossible d;r elps,,
f h bT f eamhelp
us become o .t e 1 tty o our own ghosts. The Wagnerias
drama constitutes m thiS way a Ltchtung of our own truth. '
University of Valladolid
Works Cited
Adorno, Theodor. Asthetische Theorie. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1992.
--. "On the Score of Parsifal." Trans. Anthony Barone. Music and Letters
76.3 ( 1995): 384-86.
--. Philosophie der neuen Musik. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1991.
Adorno, Theodor, and Max Horkheimer. Dialectic of Enlightenment:
Philosophical Fragments. Trans. Edmund Jephcott. Stanford: Stanford
UP, 2002.
Benjamin, Walter. The Origin of German Tragic Drama. Trans. John Osborne.
London: Verso, 2003.
Borchmeyer, Dieter, and Jorg Salaquarda, eds. Nietzsche und Wagner: Stationen
einer epocha/en Begegnung. Frankfurt am Main: Insel, 1994.2: 850-51.
Chailley,jacques. Parsifal de Richard Wagner: Opra initiatique. Paris: Buchetl
Chastel, 1986.
Dodds, Eric Robertson. Pagan and Christian in an Age o{ Anxiety: Sorne
Aspects of Religious Experience from Marcus Aurelius to Constantine.
Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1965.
"La glose." Histoire des re/igions. Paris: Gallimard, 1972. 2:
Eckert, Nora. Pamfal 1914: ber Heilsbringer, Vol k es Wille und die
lnstrumentaliSierung des Krieges. Hamburg Europ3ische Verlagsansralr,
2003. .
Gaviln, F.nriqu_e; "De la supervivencia de Eva y la imposibilidad de la
Los cantores de Nrnberg."' El ca/iu de J'oikos .
. crancesco de Martmo a d e 2004
247-74. " armen Morenilla. Bari: Levante,
--... Mito e historia en Wagner .: 1 1
contra d historicismo." El del teatro griego en la
205-24.
1
' e es ombres. Bari: Levante, 2
--. .. Prometen, entre liturgia de la \ . .
E!tqulo, Wagner, Nono." Fl
1 1
ahra Y dt la
tradtcitJn occidental .:d J 've;
1
y su ren:/JCit tn /J
Ban: Levante, 2006. 2 l-.s
5
." anu s F. de Martino and C. Morenilla.
J RINT ON PARS/fAI., AN ILLVMINATION OF RUIN S 15 J
THE GNOSTIC MP
M
Holzwege. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann,
Heidegger, arnn.
1 9 ~ ey Trans. Robert Fitzgerald. New York: Double-day, 1963.
jomer. ys:nd.MarieLouise von Franz. Die Gralslegende in psychologischer
Jung,Emma, 1 1991
Sicht. Dsseldorf: Wa ter, . . . .
Rorry, Richard. Contingency, Irony, and So!tdartty. Cambndge: Cambndge
UP, 1991.
S hadewaldt, Wolfgang. "Richard Wagner und die Griechen." Richard Wagner
e zmd das neue Bayreuth. Ed. Wieland Wagner. Munich: Paul List, 1962.
Wagner, Cosima. Tagebcher. 4 vals. Munich: Piper, 1982.
Wagner, Richard. "Das Kunstwerk der Zukunft." Gesammelte Schriften und
Dichtungen. Leipzig, 1850.42-177.
--. "Die Kunst und die Revolution." Gesammelte Schriften und
Dichtungen. Leipzig, 1911. 3: 8-41.
--."Die Wibelungen. Weltgeschichte aus der Sage." Gesammelte Schriften
und Dichtungen. Leipzig, 1911. 2: 115-55.
--. "Eine Mittheilung an meine Freunde." Gesammelte Schriften und
Dichtungen. Leipzig, 1911.4: 230-344.
--. "Oper und Drama." Gesammelte Schriften und Dichtungen. Leipzig,
1911. 3: 222-320,4: 1-229.
--. Religion and Art. Trans. W. Ashton Ellis. Lincoln: U of Nebraska P,
1994.
Wagner, Wieland. "Das Parsifai-Kreuz--<:in psychologisches Schema." Sein
Denken: Aufsiitze-Reden-Interviews-Briefe. Bayreuth: Bayerische
Vereinsbank, 1991.
Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Tractatus /ogico-philosophicus, Werkausgabe. Vol. 1.
Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1990.
Alfonso Mendiola
coNFLICT OR UNION IN DIFFERENCE:
INSTITUTION, BELIEF, AND HERESY
TRANSLATED BY MNIQUE 0ASCHA INCIARTE
r
his essay presents the following thesis: Michel de Certeau's entire oeuvre
explores the problem of belief. While this thesis might seem exaggerated
ro many, 1 begin with a statement made by Luce Giard in an interview about
Certeau that was published in the magazine Esprit:
The issue of religious belief and belief in a more general sense is
treated in a reduced number of texts, about a third of his published
work, if one confines oneself toa thematic and superficial reading.
But if one reads more deeply, one finds rhe problem everywhere, he
weaves his text below the surface, he is the bearer of his thought's
dynamic. (Ahearne et al. 150)
Once one accepts that Certeau's work focuses on issues involving the structure
and modalities of belief, ir is essential ro explain what this Jesuit intellectual
refers to by the word belief. As 1 try to demonstrate throughout this piece,
Certeau considers that belief is the emptiness or, better yet, the abyss, where
all sociallife begins.
. Belief is the environment that makes sociallife possible. Always already one
15
plunged into a borderland of authorities and truths, but these are only the
expression of an individual itinerary inscribed into a singular collecrivity. For
e n e ~ u, no lived or intellectual experience can approximare the universal. As
he pomred out in many of his works, an individual will never produce his or
her statements from within a globallanguage, no matter how much he or she
has read. Al! speech is a tribal "dialect," and it is rhe recognirion oi rhis thar
allows us to open ourselves up ro heterodoxy. E ven further, for Certeau, as for
Michel Foucault, human sciences should be called ''hererologic knowledg."
1 prefer to call it heterodox knowledge, knowledge whose purpose is ro alter
orthodoxy itself. The rirle of Certeau's most recenrly publishtd dnthology-
The Place of the Other-makes this explicir. The figures rh.tt htunr his work-
characrers like jean-Joseph Surin, the Jesuit who parientl) talked wirh rh
possessed Jeanne des Anges in l.oudun-arf' alw<1}'S alrerf'd by the nther. One
rln Roni<IN/(' Rf'I'II'U' Vnlumt' lO Numlltrl> 1-.2 () Thr rrustl."t"S tll ( 'uluml11.1 l
1
111\t'11olt}
Ij6
ALFONSO MENDJOLA
could say that as travelers, they always pass across limits or bo d
h h h
r ers, the
own limits and borders. To cross t em, owever, t ey must first be re . "
d lf
cogniZed
Yet one does not cross over to eny onese orto accept what is d'ff
1f N h'
1
erent
in arder 10 forget onese : ot mg 1s more contrary to Certeau. Instead, in
Certeau, the encounter w11h the other can happen only when both recognize
each other as different. To recogmze another as ddferent means assumi
conflict. This conflict consists in encountering the other at the place
borh are transformed. There is no apology here for harmony. One is changed
by affective discourse, not by obecnfymg and neutral d1scourse. In other
words, the alteration-how and in what direction will 1 be affected by the
orher-is not controllable. lt happens within the discourse of desire. Finally,
the encounter with heterodoxy happens in a world of ambiguity, the world
of passion.
As can be inferred from the above, heresy can become something positive.
Heresy stops being about power, which denies and excludes. Heresy is what
resides in me when I understand that my experiences are the radical expression
of finitude. For Certeau, heresy is not what is outside m y belief system but what
constitutes my own world. As I hope to make clear by the end of this essay,
death does not come from outside but is always already present inside, as it
is for Foucault in The Order ofThings. The act of belief is being possessed by
dearh. Whar Michel the ]esuit will insist on in opposition to the other Michel
is the foHowing: a rupture or discontnuity in historie time is not something
that is discovered when a new "episteme" appears; rather, it exists already in
rhe present "episteme" in which one lives. What is incommensurable is not
discovered when a taxonomy stops functioning or stops being undersrood,
but 1s already in one's own exisrence. From the beginning we are inhabired by
dlfference, by the impossibiliry of judging absoiutely. There are no metarheories
that go beyond the. space of lirigation or disagreement, since whenever I judge
1
commtt an
10
1USttce. The only way notro commit the injustice is ro enter the
realm of metaphor, the .. as if."
rhis essay I presem a rhesis about the notion of heresy in Certeau. To
dbelenfd thts thesis, lt ts necessary to reconstruct Certeau's theory on rhe act of
e 1e . As I show below to beli h. d
, eve m somet mg ts to accept one's depen ence
on another. In orher words all b r f b b' t
f h b l
. f () ' e le egms by the splitting off of the su ec
rom t e e 1e . ne always beli b . 1 ,
Wh h h h . eves ecause one 1s inscribed in a genea ogy.
oug ts t e credttor who launches my helieP
In Certeau, he res y when a
a doctrine. All dc,.;trinal beli.ef turns the act of helievmg
for this reason rhat Ccrteau invited us t or expurga tes or excludes: IrIS
He knew that thcre is no society rh
0
the margins of all
No one can be outside instituri
01
:
1
h ou.r t. e

for creating instiruuons .

. ut Jt ts possihle to he at their peripheries.
CoNFLICT oR UN ION IN DIFFERENCE 157
ation ofDeath (Analytic of Finitude) in Certeau's
1
The ThematlZ .
tbropo/ogy of Beltef
An d he following interpretative hypothesis: from 1968 to the time
1 defen t h 1 b h 1 d
h' d arh Certeau's preoccupation wlt e a oratmg a t eoretrca an
of
15
reflection about belief arises from Foucault's archaeological
of the human sciences in The Order of Things, a work that bears
"An Archaeology of the Human Sciences" (1966). Furthermore, 1
:rgue rhat Certeau had been making the same diagnosis of the human sciences,
as
3
resulr of mystical studies he undertook on entering the Company of Jesus
and, in particular, on studying the work of his alter ego Surin.
for Foucault, the human sciences were born in the nineteenth century in the
inrersrices left by the seventeenth's classical epistemology. The latter was based
on rhe notion of representation and on making knowledge mathematical.
Classical knowledge creares a triad of positivities-life, the exchange of
wealth, and language-but it was never capable of converting man into the
object of empirical investigation. Man, as object of empirical anthropology,
does nor arise until the beginning of the nineteenth century, conceived of as the
one who lives (biological science), has needs (political economy), and speaks
(philology). According to the analysis in The Order ofThings, this is why the
human sciences crea te the positive study of man starting from the norion of
representation. However, by the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of
the nineteenth cenrury-and this is the center of m y explanation of Certeau 's
trearment of belief-this empiricism based on representation (constituting the
classic episteme's space of knowledge) is mediated by an analysis of finitude.
In other words, anthropological empiricism becomes possible thanks ro rhe
encounter between a concept from rhe classical era, represenrarion, and
another, from modernity, that of finitude, or historicity.
The analysis of finitude forces representation to be studied from wirhin irs
own limits, or said differently, from what denies ir. What denies represenration
at the beginning of rhe rwentieth century will variously be called the unconscious
(psychoanalysis), rhe past (history), and rhe savage (ethnology); in one word, ir
could he called orherness, ur as Paul Ricoeur ca lis ir, rhe involunrary ahsolure.
This analysis of finirude (the limirs of represenration or rhe disrirKtion berwren
the thing in itself and rhe phenomenon) is what our Jesuir will since ir
refers to all knowledge in rhe human scirnces heing Ouilr from somethrng thlt
cannot he named: the expcrience of dearh. Skipping ahead, 1 state rh.u
who crea red an "experimc.nral scic.nce .. of finirude werc. mystil.s twlongmg_ ro
a specitic historical pcriod, rhc. sixtec.nrh and seventeenth t.:enturies. Jumpmg
ro m y 1 point out rhc following: thc. mystil.'s
rs nor rcdtKihlc ro rhe ninereenth centuq's human sciences or ro the torm
thcy takc. in the twentieth. In a way. howc.ver, borh kinds of knowlc.dgt", that
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
0
mvsticism and of human science, are oriented around the sam .
wha; is man's existence, framed as it is in finitude, in death? e quesllon:
To show the similarity between Certeau and Foucault 1 discuss tw
rexts contained in The Order o(Things and ask the following quesr: ':ndtral
f h h d n. oes
not Foucault's diagnosis o t e uman con mm a escription of the
mystics studied by Certeau? Stated posltlvely, the mterest in the rnystics'
writing is due to 1ts allowmg the d1scovery of answers to the problems p d
by the three contemporary fields of knowledge: history,

ethnology. We must not forget that Certeau calls these three fields heterologies.
Foucault writes:
But when one follows the movement of psychoanalysis as it
progresses, or when one traverses the epistemological space as a
whole, one sees that these figures are in fact-though imaginary
no doubt to the myopic gaze-the very forms of finitude, as it is
analysed in modern thought. ls death not that upon the basis of
which knowledge in general is possible-so much so that we can
think of it as being, in the area of psychoanalysis, the figure of
that empirico-transcendental duplication that characterizes man's
mode of being within finitude? Is desire not that which remains
always unthought at the heart of thought? And the law-language
(at once word and word-system) that psychoanalysis takes such
pains to make speak, is it not that in which all signification assumes
an origin more distant than itself, but also that whose return is
promised in the very act of analysis? 1t is indeed true that this
Death, and this Desire, and this Law can never meet within the
knowledge that traverses i its positivity the empirical domain of
man; but the reason for this is that they designa te the condition of
possibility of all knowledge about man. (3?S)
:hat establishes knowledge about man is the unsayable: death. This is why
are nourished by the absolute abyss. Foucault insists on the
pro em t at anses when man is turned into something empirical:
lt was quite inevitable, then, that they should b h [ f . to
psychoanalySIS and ethnolo 1 b . ot re ernng
b h h gy e SCiences of the unconscious: not
ecause t ey reac clown to what is bel . .
hut beca use thcy a d" d ow consctousness m man,
re towards that h' h "d
makes it possible to k no . h . . w IC , outst e man,
is given to or eludes his a posutve knowledge, that which
consciOusness. (37S)
1t is dear that what allows and escapes from the k .
that 1s, death. Certeau accepted that the hum nowledge of man 1s the other,
an sctences tn their new Kanuan
d h dead weight of the classical episteme of representation
u carne
1
e d k b h
form stl pr'ate Janguage had to be constructe to thm a out t e
h can appro
and .c a
1
knowledge about the unconscious. Ir was necessary to construct
speCJhCJIY impossible. Cerreau's study of the epistemology of history,
P
oencs
0
b f h. H 11 d
'
1
and psychoanalyss was orn rom t 1s preoccupattOn. e ca e
echno

ol knowledge heterologies, and his "no basis" is what he called

:r rhe act ol believing. Beca use of this, the study of belief's modalities
che way in which Certeau sought to assume the challenge of contemporary
::i:nces: death. Is it possible to think about death, or is it only the unsayable
chac allows all thought, as Certeau proposed?
Not long ago, in the comic vein of his memorable adventures, Felix
the Cat was depicted in a situation analogous to the one we are
describing. He is walking at a fast pace, then suddenly notices, at
the same time as the viewer, that the ground has gone out from
under him: he had left the edge of the cliff he was following a while
belore. Only then does he fall into the void. Perhaps this image
expresses the problem and the perception to which Foucault's
book bears witness. (Heterologies 183)
This quote belongs to Certeau's review of The Order o{Things, "The Black
Sun ol Language: Foucault," which was published with a more conventional
name m March 1967, in Etudes.
2
2. Certeau's Reaction to The Order of Things
Let us loo k more dosel y at Certeau's reaction to The Order of Things, which
appeared in 1966. In the first months of the following year Certeau published
hiS rev1ew, "The Black Sun of Language: Foucault." Today it is considered
one ol the richest interpretations of the time. It is worth repeating: Certeau 's
mterpretation of Foucault's oeuvre is very rich beca use lrom the rime he enrered
the Jesuit order he had been diagnosing twentierh-cenrury sciences, in a similar
manner ro this work ol Foucault's. Somehow borh aurhors found rhemselves
preoccupied by rhe same rhings. Their anxiety can be seen in rhe interese horh
show in understanding rhe epistemologies of rhe rhree disciplines rhar mark
the 1970s: psychoanalysis, erhnology, and hisrory-all rhree suhsumed into rh<
srrucruralist wave (or in rhe linguisric formalizarion of rhese tields of knowledgr).
t. This new Kantian form divides rc.>prCSC'IU:ltion into emrmi.:J.I (Pl'Sir.IVI(It'S) .llh.f
transcendental (whar makes rhem possible). In foH.:t, wh.u is repreSC"nrAlllr 1s lonf(t'r
reality in itself (infinity) hut what is ;.1c,:essihle ro a form of rrprrsl."nt.mon (tl.mtudt').
2. A!o Ciard points out in his inrrodm:tion to tht" S("\.'tmd rxp:mdt"d ot Htslmf't
f't psychanalvse.
160
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
In "The Black Sun" Certeau openly accepts the central meth d
(
or rather archaeological) proposal of The Order of Things Tho ologica
. d . IS prop
is nor easv ro explam, even now. All or enng accomplished by osal
. h' h a system f
knowledge is supported by somet mg t e system itself cannot s B
0
h
. f F 1 1 ee. efore
explaining what t 1s means or oucau t, must pomt out somerh
f
mg thar
will be fundamental for Certeau: any orm of knowledge that con .
. . . f d d. bl stnutes
positivities (empmcal obJeCts o stu y) an IS a e to produce staternents thar
are
1
usnfied soCially as well as bemg vahd m terms of those posinv1ties does so
from an epistemologiCal baSIS rhat cannor be demonsrrared or pronounced on
by rhar consrirured knowledge. In orher words, whar allows rhe ordering of a
ser of objecrs is nor visible from irs own vantage point. Thar is, whar allows
us rosee remains hidden.
There is a rhesis in "The Black Sun" rhat appears rhroughour Cerreau's
work: whar allows us ro speak is rhe unsayable. Wirhin every discipline there
is somerhing rhar supports the discipline thar is nor jusrifiable within the
operarions used by thar particular discipline. lt is from rhis lack of a base in
all sysrerns of knowledge rhar one of the dynamics of Certeau's thoughr arises,
whar he calls rhe poerics of rhe impossible. These poerics manifesr themselves
in every one of his works, in his meticulous artention ro style. Thus Cerreau's
use of rhetorical figures in his works is a necessiry, nor an issue of elegance.
Since each sratement-even rhose abour science-is supported by rhe abyss,
would ir nor be better ro call ir a belief?
Whar does the poerics of rhe impossible mean for Foucaulr's archaeological
rnerhod? Whar allows us ro see partakes of a blind spor, which means rhat
whar is differenr from homogeneiry is whar confers visibiliry (rhe difference).
Because of rhis, rhe difference is visible only when one has passed into a
new sysrern of order in rhe world, when one has passed into a new episteme.
Th1s can be seen in the following passage in "The Black Sun": "A problem
whar is the nature of rhis 'leve!,' said ro be thar of rhe 'ground' or
epistemological foundarion'? Whar validity does ir have?" (178).
The. question thar arises wirh the appearance of rhe human sciences in rhe
twenneth century is thar of rhe "ground." While rhe episreme of the classical
penod consmured Irs knowledge in rhe space of rhe ground or surface (what
rhe sciences of rhe rwenrieth are builr on a doubling. This doubhng,
t emanzed by lmmanud Kant as rhe relarionship between empiricism and
trahnscehndentahsm (rhe Invisible rhing thar makes positivities visible), is
w at e aractenzes moder 1
understands this do bl' n sysrems o knowledge for Foucaulr. Foucau r
whar is rhmg as bedmg the limits of represcntation, where.
egroun (w atiSma ) m1kcs
possible rhe representation ( h ..
1
.
01
est and what allows or . ' h
always latcnt fthe (;iven th;.t
we could '"Y that the undcrground is th e h;omd rhe effecr of the sur
e m spot of observauon at r t:
problem of The Order o( Things is possible only from
' The genera F 1 k h h
sunace. . f the episteme stud1ed by Kant. oucau t as s t roug out
rspecnve o . b . h d d) . h k
rhe P' h t the epistemological as1s (t e un ergroun IS t at ma es
his work w obects, statements about these objects, and a set of systems
o55'ble certa . 1 b . h . . . . d
P dge. This epistemologiCa ase orgamzes t e positiVIties an systems
rhat study them. The underground (what is invisible) is what
imposes order:
No one can express in words that which gives everyone the
power to speak. There is order, but only in the form of what one
does not know, in the mode of what is "different" in relation to
consciousness. The Same (the homogeneity of order) appears as
orherness (the heterogeneity of the unconscious, or rather of the
implicit). ( 172)
But what is implicit dies opening out to the possibility of a new order, from
which other objects will be perceived through other systems of knowledge.
Iris important to point out that this new order is unable to think about the
previous one, since the previous one has become obscured. This underground
rhat makes order possible and that remains hidden to consciousness is death.
According to Certeau, for Foucault this death is visible only from the new
order, which is why he says that in The Order of Things death is always
something externa!, while for Certeau death is interna! to each and every
system of thought. Certeau says that Foucault's book is always dealing with
death: "Language and the epistemological spaces of perception constantly
refer to the inscription above the door: 'Here, it is a question of death.' An
absence, which is perhaps meaning, has been trailed and is overtaken where
we would least expect to find it-in rationality itself" (174) .
. As 1 said above, Certeau agrees with the diagnosis about contemporary
SCiences, but in the end he considers that these sciences are not being treated
radically enough: "AII discourse," he points out in "The Black Sun," finds its
law rn death, "the innocent good earth beneath the lawn of words" ( 1
7
4 ).
He develops this theme of death understood as something interna!. in his
anthropology of belief. '
Historical structures, or systems uf thought in Foucault's work. replace the
commentary or gloss of the so-called hisrory of ideas. h is not ro
gloss hut to discover rhe underground (the conditions of historical pc.lssh_hty)
r_hat determine order's way of being; it is ro determine rhar order :.tnd Wlll
finire, since ir f.:a.ces death. Dearh constirures rhe other as ditferenr trom wh.Jr IS
herween different periods. What is importanr in fom:aulr's rne-th<_,J IS
dlscovering the impossihility of rhinking from now on as ont" OCtof"(':
His llltthod's centl'r is tht: revelation of differtm .. e: "Thert <Ut" rhus rwo st.llC.S
!62
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
to the process: first, the apprehension of a system that is differe .
the need for a reciproca! localization of systems held to be 'diffe: second,
k h
. nt mode
of being'" 1177). Toma e IStory IS to use certam operations to build h s
different, not what is similar. w at 1s
When we understand that yesterday .were thought of and reasoned
about frorn an "a pnon from ours, that moment, disquiet arises
and always expresses the exiStence of what IS heterogeneous. Then it is
understood rhat the world has not always been like ours:
Foucault's analysis is too penetrating not to find conrinuity
in the metamorphoses and restructurings characterizing each
epistemological period. The subtitle of The Order of Things
I"An Archaeology of the Human Sciences") already announces
the movement which, according to the book, propelled Western
thought of the Classical Age toward the formation of the human
sciences, by way of three models proper ro the nineteenth century,
namely biology, economy, and philology-the roots of psychology,
sociology, and linguistics. This same movement is behind today's
challenge of these sciences by history, ethnology, and psychoanalysis.
Primal scenes, in the psychoanalytic sense, lurk within and
determine these developments. Beneath the cultural displacements
there persist original wounds and organizing impulsions, still
perceptible in thoughts that ha ve forgotten them. 1179)
lt is to note that the continuity Certeau ralks about involves an
amblglllty or lapse, or rather a returning ghost. It is the return of the repressed,
of a pnmal scene: "The ambiguity proper to the exchanges between cultures,
or related to succession, does not nullify the reality of the connecrions,
but rather spec1fies the'1 A b' 1 d
an, . , . natures. m 1gutty of commumcauon IS re are to
. anxtety mtertwmes the continuity of history and rhe discontinuity of
ts systems: d.fference" 11 g 1 ).
Certeau's critique 0 Th 0 d f .
h h 1
. e r er o Thmgs is that the work does not
reac t e u nmate conclusi lf F d h
f d d on. oucault meanr to speak about the eat
srructure a mode of thought"-histor_ical a
Foucault death is fou d . h t squarely. 1 repeat, this means that wh1le for
' n tntenewod h s
one, for Certeau death is al d . h"r er t at ts the outside uf the prevwu
says in his of y Wlt tn the order.l turn now to what Certeau
who cling to continuity think
takmg refuge in rhe fictiun uf a erm they can escape death by
p anence that ts real. Those who
CoNFLICT OR UNION IN DtFFERENCE
1
de the solid walls of the discontinuous systems
hemse ves msi h
box t h keep death an externa/ problem, confined to t e
b
1 eve t ey can d h .d
e
1
d t that brings an end to a particular or er; t ey avo1
absur even lf bl h h
b
lem posed by the system of order Jtse , a pro em w JC
rhe pro f h . 1 "/" . "F h . h
firsr appears in the image o t e m terna . lffiit. or t e Sixteent
ry it was the other world, eJther d1vme or demomc; for the
cenru, , ... fh. h
sevenreenth, "non-being, besttal or tmagmary; or t e nmeteent ,
rhe "inside" dimension (the past, force, dreams). ( 181)
r63
To conclude with our Jesuit's reaction to Foucault's diagnosis and to orient
our main question about belief, it is useful to read the following fragment
from "The Black S un":
His work sets out to say the truth of language systems, but that
truth is tied to no limit, and therefore to no engagement on rhe
author's part. The ruptures within and berween language systems
are in the end bridged by the lucidity of his universal gaze. In other
words, he speaks of the death that founds all language wirhout
really confronting the death within his own discourse; in fact, his
approach may be a way of avoiding it. (183)
Iris this radicallack in The Order o(Things that Certeau wants to address in
hJS anthropology of belief mediated by the poetics of rhe impossible or, put
d!flerently, by studying the experience of the being rhat is altered by the orher.
For Cerreau, the only way to allow oneself to become altered or possessed by
the other is to accept one's own death. It is from the acceptance of one's own
dearh, not the other's death, that arises rhe possibility of silence, the condition
lor hearing one who is different from oneself. The anrhropology of beliel rhat
weaves through Certeau's entire oeuvre is a study of all rhe contlgurations
taken by the being that is possessed by rhe other.
3
Two Long Stages in the Construction of the Anthropology of &lief'
Certeau developed his anthropology ol beliel over a long period of time.
My focus hegins wirh his reflections un 1968 in frant.:e and ends with the
appearance ol The Mystic f..,b/e in ( 1982 in l'rench). There is an essay
l. lh1" o;ection follows Ala m Bourt>au, "(. 'roirr: (.'1 ,.:roy.utcC"s," wh,._h <1pJ'(';lreJ m
Muhd de Certeau: I.es chemms d'h1stotre, C'd. Chnsuan l>dch:rt.nx,
ratm:k <;.,ruot .md Mit.:hel ll\russds: t-'Jmom. ( cmtplnt,100ll.
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
from those years that clarifies the orientation of his reflections, "La faiblesse
crmre," whiCh appeared m 1977 m Esprtt. The first thmg that jumps de
d 1 d" h" h ourfrom
the title and that !S eve ope m IS argument ts t e opposition betwe b .
1 d
. d b f . f en ehef
and knowledge. Know e ge ts strong an e te ts ragile, even weak B
the fact that knowledge for Certeau is science and that science produc oth
. .
11
b . es true
statements reveal somethmg that WI e cruCial for Certeau's theory ab
belief: statements of knowledge must be legitimized.lf they are not
they must be rejected. One might say that when a scientific statement canno;
be supported it must be abandoned. On the other hand, the world of belief is
not about demonstrations but about involuntary adherences. In other words
one believes in something beca use one cannot not believe in it. '
Yet one aspect of belief derived from the above is the opposite: the fragilitv
of belief becomes its strength. When one interlocutor says to another, ;1
have the weakness of believing in a given thing," somehow the other cannot
but be in solidarity. When someone believes, there is no way of making him
or her doubt. Nothing can be stronger than belief, since it is not voluntary.
Later on, Certeau specifies that this strength on the part of belief is not
due ro its adherence ro principies but to its being a way of lile. For him,
belief is making rather than accepting a doctrine. Lastly, and already in this
essay, belief becomes the basis for all sociallife, since belief is at the base of
aH communication. For Cerreau, belief in vol ves what is realistic and what
cannot be legitimized with argument is a commonplace: a clich, a proverb,
what is already admitted by a collective group. 1 would even say that Cerreau
refers to what is not socially thematizable. 1t is nevertheless important to
point out that our ]esuit will pass from the content of belief-belief as the
acceptance of cena in statements-to the form of belief referring to the mode
of belief. '
. For no_w, _we have a first thesis as to what Certeau understands as belief.
Ftrst, beltef" opposed to knowledge ("1 know" is different from "! believe");
sefcbon,d, the strength of belief is that it is involuntary and third, the formaliry
o e tefiSalwaystheback d 11 ' h t
11
. groun o a communicarion (even more, tt ts w a
a ows us ro commumcate) H h 1
f b l
. b ere one can see that the historical ant ropo og)
o e te ecomes a rheory b h . . . l"k h
a r f k h a out t e transmtsston of an inhentance ( t e t e
r o nowmg ow ro make something) from one generation to anorher. If
we now return to Certeau's
3
. . ,
that his rheory abour belief of Foucault's boo.k, we sa).
How does the other who is not respond to the followmg
be in the acts of those who dead one-contmu_e t d
by what is unsustainahle the th , dhcre. How is any socicry sustatne
f

0
ers cath> Wh h 1 d > to
s.ay arewell tn its dead, since it h d at s o u d a souety l
proceed in life?
5
t e cad who transmit ro it rhc way to
CoNFLICT OR UN ION IN DIFFERENCE
te
rhat Certeau's seminar in the cole des Hautes tudes
. . portanr tono f
lt"'m d rd rellection about belief. This shows us how at the end o
oCJente rowa b b ,. f 4
was h rill dedicated ro constructing a theory a out e 1e :
his!Jie e was s
1
rhe year 1984-1985, the second semester was devoted to
investigations about belief"; programming for
1985-1986 promised a weekly seminar about "credibility: case
srudies (polirical and religious) and theory of belief," while a
second seminar, with rhe collaboration of Luce Giard, dealt with
"articulations of knowledge and belief. Scientific and philosophical
texts." (Boureau 127)
As we can see, Certeau was inrerested in belief unril the end of his life.
He did, though, understand this as different from belonging ro a religion.
He understood that a theory about society could not advance if ir did not
thematize historical forms of belief, since for him belief is about somehow
preparing a place for the dead in rhe world of rhe living. Said in anorher way,
rhere is no society without two premises: one, 1 am, thanks to those who ha ve
gone, and two, 1 need ro deal wirh my own death. There is no sociery wirhour
the dead and dearh.
I now turn ro rhe srages rhrough which Cerreau passed in elaboraring his
theory of belief, or as 1 have said, rhe relationship one has wirh rhe orher
who_ m.habits one. Befo re beginning, it is important ro remember that Certeau
spwahzed in rhe seventeenrh cenrury (as well as many orher periods), and he
conSJdered rhar particular hisrorical moment as the passage from one form of
behef ro anorher, from a sociery rhat explained itself with Christian rheological
concepts to another rhat used political and economic rerms. Curiously,
Cerreau never spoke abour belief in rhe Middle Ages, alrhough ir would ha ve
allowed us ro conrrasr rhe relarion berween knowledge and fairh during rhe
two periods .
.1.1. The Propagation of Discredit (From 198 to the End of the in
France)
Cerreau's first texts ahout helief are placed wirhin a polirical comexr_: May
19
68. He studies how political institutions are discredited. He t.:onsdered
that political hestowing of meaning on so('i;.tl events a rose in thc. sevenreenth
4. it wouiJ he heth.'r ro s.ty .1 tht.or) ahour mournin
t{'flll!>,
sp.:hlMnalytll'
166
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
century. Politics supplanted a form of meaning or, better, of belief: Chri .
religiosity. In the 1970s pohncs was nearmg 1ts end as another form f
The question remains as ro what will replace it. Today we know
0
h ehef.
h f d - t at the
sevennes saw t e appearance o gran pto)Ccts ro revl!a ze politics-we mighr
remember the work of Claude Lefort, for example. I suppose that the .
d b h d . f 1". b ""'
general consensus ro ay a out r e o po mes, ur perhaps this can
be interpreted along w1th Fran,oiS Hartog s not10n of presentism.'It is possibl
rhat what Ceneau was noting was a change of historie regime: from a
experience of time centered on the future ro another, centered on the present
(i.e., an experience of time in which an event that does not end, an extended
present). Perhaps ir is the passage of history as a representation of time,
replaced by memory. While we ha ve been able to understand the transition
from religious to political, we ha ve not been capable of understanding what
will replace the political.
This first rhematization of belief goes from "Les rvolutions du croyable,"
published in February 1969, in Esprit, ro "Croire, faire croire," published in
Critique des pratiques politiques, edited by Pierre Birnbaum in 1978.
6
The
first anide has a prophetic style, relevant ro the times. The second anide has
a more bitter tone.
The anide from 1969 focuses on lack of trust in poiitical institutions. His
description uses a prophetic rhetoric that denounces the church in tones that
play on Europe's de-Christianization and Vatican ll. This discussion refers
to the passing of Christianity into liberation theology through Maoism. In
'l.Croire, faire croire," however, it is clear that ten years later the church's lack
of credibility is sharpened because of the social event of 1968. For Certeau,
the end of the seventies was marked by a pragmatic society that thought only
about the present. The first essay, as I said, is immediately relevan! (ir speaks
of 1968), wh1le the second tries ro explain the discrediting process from a
h1stoncal perspective.
Toward a Phenomenology of Belief lfrom 1981 to the Seminars in the
r.cole des Hautes f.tudes, 1984-198
6
)
:he question that guides Certeau's theory of belief is: What supporrs social
Ten years la ter, Certeau abandons his diagnosis
an egms wth a true theory of belief. He lea ves the functional
.S 1-'or the concept of prescntJsm . . . , .
Prsentume et expriences du

Hartog, Rg1mes d'histortCilf
s ans: Seu!l 2003)
6. Both artacle\ can he read today o,JiKhtl h . . . .. h
hrst is in Culture m Plural (
1 974
' d : e from thcir fina versaons. f i.c
( 1 I.JHO). an t e o,econd In "l"he Practice o( Etltryda)' f_t
CoNFLICT oR UN ION IN DIFFERENCE
.
1
belief and begins ro ask himself about modes or ways of believing
analySJhS
0
t history. He goes from a hisrorical to an anthropological
hroug
00
1
;, Janation. This does not mean that the prob em does not contmue ro be
p d in historical terms, smce, as 1 ha ve sa1d, h1s semmar IS called HISroncal

of Belief. What is new is that he tries to think about ir differently,

nt f d' d'
not lrom rhe perspective o IScre It.
The rransformation is complete with the appearance of his essay "Une
prarique socia le de la diffrence: Croire," in the documentation of a colloquium
ritled "Faire croire," in 1981.
7
Certeau still refers to the seventeenth century's
passage lrom the religious ro the political, but now a second moment of
reflection begins. Beginning with "Une pratique sociale de la diffrence:
Croire," his analysis of belief is centered on alterity and absence. "At last,"
writes Alain Boureau, "de Certeau can surpass the dichotomy of beliefs as
objects or residues, on the one hand, and, on the other, rhe purely psychological
and individual description of an act of belief" (134 ). Beginning with this essay
in 1981, Certeau finds a grand explanation for a theory of belief: "The process
ol belief defines itself by the absence of a desired good (certitude), which is
why pleasure is transferred to the future through rhe mediation of a contraer
that unites the subject ro others in an institution" (20). This stance neutralizes
the valuation of moments of belief and momenrs of discredit. Somehow belief
is always already in every social relationship, since this is what permits social
constitution .
. H_e manages this phenomenological reduction with the concept of
dzfference. This phenomenology leads to rhe nucleus of belief: rhe rpondant.
"ll Y a un rpondant"
8
-"thece is" is different from existing according to
Martin Heidegger, and Certeau gets rhe concept of diffrence from him. For
this means that one is never sure that a response toa request will be
rewved, but one must suppose rhar it will be beca use orherwise lile would be
Irnpossible. The one who responds ro our request is always neutral and plural.
Two years la ter he takes up the problem of the rpondant again and changes
lt toa question about meaning. .
The authorities Certeau cites along his path ro thinking about belid are
Foucaulr (archaeology), who allowed Certeau ro think hisrorically abour
7
1 an.1ly7.e this essay in rhe next secrion. . , .
8 11 Y a un rpondant would ha ve rhe following 111 ( erte;IU s rext: tirsr.
the most gtneral. a person who respond!> (or is totuara.nror) for f"t"rson; !lot"\..'tllhj,
to depcnd nn argunwnts ro ohj('\.tions motde ro ot thrM!'I.; th1rd. ro rt"'."\mtmrnd
someonl' one knows rhat prrson; and, fourth. tht" person who rt"sponds lll -'
liturgkal rite. ..
Y, This essay was puhhsht"d w
1
th rhr utlt" '"l'msritunon du Notr dr tra\,tll,
Rri'Ut' d("s sctence.s relixieusf'S 71 ( 1 t-. 1-HO.
t68
ALFONSO MEND!OLA
helief; Jean Baudrillard, on society and simulacra; and Roland Ba h
semiology of everyday life in Mythologies. In 1981, the the
previous period disappear, and Certeau's beautiful analysis of the co rom the
difference and contraer is developed. His analysis begins with mile
h 1 'd f S '11 f vemstes
etymologies (Benvemste was t e SI ore o evt e o the twentieth cemury). B
1978, however: other references appear: the
of mind (the Fmmsh ph1losopher Hmttkka and hiS teacher G. H. von
Wright). These last authors are charactenzed by thetr el ose association of logi
philosophy of mind, and history (especially medieval). This tradition deals
the unity between believing and doing-that is, the modalities of the enunciation
of belief. The other author who begins to appear is W. V. O. Quine. Another
work cited in 1983 is Dan Sperber's article "Apparently lrrational Beliefs."
4. The Most Elaborated Anthropology of Belief
The essay "Une pratique de la diffrence: Croire" ends the acts of the
colloquium about {aire croire. We know about the surprise that Certeau's
presentation caused. The strangeness was due to the fact that the public that
was present expected a reflection on religious belief and toward the beginning
of the 1980s, Certeau's concept of belief had already widened. The act of
believing was to be studied beginning with its structures and be understood as
the mystery that establishes the social (the idea of 11 y a un rpondant-that
is, there is something, as opposed to nothing, that responds to our request).
We have before us the classical question of modernity: how is social order
founded? Certeau will answer that it is through forms of belief, specifically
through the ritual, symbolic, and emotional relationships established berween
the living and the dead.
4.1. Belief as the Production of Difference
The anide begins with a reflcction about the meanings of the word belie(,
to arnve at lts basac nucleus, with the meaning of "to differ." lt is useful to
down a hit hcre. Thc term to helieve has a constcllation of uses, among
wh&ch the_ following: ( 1) to ha ve confidem:e in someone or something;
to helleve m or in what one can sce; (.l) to trust what is said. What
threc of thc word helieve is thar a rclationship is alwaY"
esta " ed.l\ehef" notas ht - h h'
b h -u s ancc uta relatiOn\hip. Thar rclatH>ns 1p c.
Wlt a pcrson_ or whatevcr is constru'-.:ted a!-. rcal-what sccn-
Sald(for Ccrtcau hclid is always neutral and phmll). What
th
. 11 f 11 wathm tha\ !ict of n:lation,hip\ is tlnt in tht thrtc
e support or clef " s h. d. ff
Bcli f . . d h .. omct mg 1 . ercnt from thc pcrson who hdicVt'".'
' " 'upportc y the othcr Th1 h h 1' 1
The other\ respon!'lc , ' as w y one l.:dnnot c:ontrol onc's e ll'.
CoNFLtCT OR UN ION IN DtFFERENCE
b tw
een a recognition of alterity and an established contraer
r f moves e
Be" h h r ir is a person, a thing, or a word). As 1 show below, the
with Jt :rr;f cannot en ter law; belief prevails in those interstices in society
conrraclr
0
en ter. This is why belief moves from faithfulness (1 a m
where aw 1 h ") 1 d 1
. hf
1
to "rhat" beca use 1 be ieve m "t at to more mstltutJona tze rea ms
faJt u h 1 h f b 1 f h d"f<
such as religious faith. W at essentta e o e te a 1 _erence IS
roduced. Believing is acceptmg three baSic thmgs: ( 1) the 1 ts posstble only
rhe mediation of the "not 1," and the "1" is not unity bur difference,
sinceall "l's" are inhabited by the other; (2) the "other" thar inhabits me is nor
under m y control; and (3) belief is producing a difference berween whar is m y
own and what is other; that is, belief is difference, nor unity. That difference is
always already inside the subject, since the act of belief implies that the subjecr
is never master of himself. Believing is dependent on "rhar" which might or
mighr not respond ro the act of which 1 believe ir capable.
The srructure of belief is temporal: iris open ro rhe future asan uncerrainty.
Belief is depositing somerhing in "that other," expecting thar in sorne future
moment ir will be recovered. The word recovered is not the mosr adequare,
since Certeau does nor refer exclusively ro giving and receiving things, but to
rhe wider fact of receiving a response ro a requesr. By introducing rhe future
mro behef we can name belief in a way that Cerreau would undersrand ir-
rhat IS, as the action of deferring (postponing). Two things are deferred; one is
tJme (l give and wait for sorne point when whar [ gave will be rerurned) and
rhe orher is the given object. The same object could never come back to me,
smce sorne time la ter that object would be something different; ir would no
longer be the same thing.
10
This aspect of belief is rhe basis of any economy of
exchange, since ro believe is ro give credir. For Cerreau the quesrion of helief
15
the inquiry into how one lives in social time. Belief manifests as a weh of
obl_igations:'' "In the intersection of a practice of rime anda social
behef, through its development, irs wirhdrawals and irs Jisplacemenrs, is a
straregic place of communicarion" ('"Une prarique sociale" 365). Belief-
deferral-materializes in an act of speech. Ir speaks what is (d('sire)
awairs irs furure fulfillment (l promise [ will be wirh you). A,.:ordin: ro
Certeau, helief incarnates the acr of saying (rhe sratemcnr as pronusl").
shape of belid is exprl"ssed in a sacriticial ritual. since rhere is
desrroyed in rhe presenr rhar looks forwJ.rJ ro rhe furure. 1 otta rou rhs
awaiting a response. For f:mile Durkheim. t."Stablishes .md rt"preSC'nf!!o
snery. 1t suhstitutes rht of in rhe presenr tor m
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
the future. Belief allows us 10 break with rhe presenr (simultaneo )
f
. (1) h . us and t
learn 10 Iive rhe three moments o ttme: w at IS no longer, but Was
2
o
what is but is begmnmg 10 change; and ( 3) what IS not yet but 1 hope .
1
1 1
Certeau will say that the presenr is not all there is. Society must undw, be.
. erstand
that it exists for those who are no longer here as well and that It is responsible
for future generanons.
The expectations of the expectations are supported in belief as remembrance
(faithfulness to memory), as attentiOn (1 beheve m what 1 see), andas hope (1
believe that yo u wiii come). A system of behefs connects the presem toa
that escapes it. Daily practices are tolerable only beca use they are supponed by
a stock of beliefs: "The act of speaking (we could say communication: mine) is
also founded on the expectation that there is someone who can respond, and
that the statement 'given' to the other will be, in the form of an equivalence and
notan identity, returned 10 the donar-speaker" ("Une pratique sociale" 367).
A web of credibility supports the conventions that weave social
communication. Belief produces the alterity of time and homogeneity: ii
constitutes the possibility of communication. This is why for Certeau belief is
opposed to knowledge: "To this principie of a historie sociability is opposed
the principie of science (or of'truth') that, by eliminating the del ay of deferred
time, practicing the immediate coincidence between what is given and what is
received, is constrained by sight" (367).
4.2. To Believe ls to Do
The believer says: 1 think you will return. Believing conjoins a saying with
a future domg. Behefs take the form 0 practices. A ritual gesture (sacrifice)
produces the expectation that things will rema in good. For Certeau, belief
does "?t m acceptmg a credo, bur rather couples a saying with a domg.
To beheve ts not to that something is true but ro carry out an action.
Adnhother way that behef 15 embodied is in the physicality of gestures, not by
a erence to certam dogmas.
1t has been argued that be!" h. h
dh Ie
15
a orm of representation to w te one
cahn_ a _ere ?r nor. to Certeau, this is the error or confusion of
a tstortca mterpretat10n This h
ha ve actually disappe d. d concepuon of helief refers to prawces t ar
are an now e - f the
conjunction of a doing and a b 1' Xlst on Y as statements. Be te JS f
proceeding. The question
0
sym
0
Held that speaks about that way
0
survived practices that ha ve ehef
15
posed by sratements that ha ve
b l
. . . Isappeared which . h f . b rwcen
e 1evmg m something and doing h.' IS w y con us1on e
Th
. . somet mg abo d
1s meanmg of belief, which also b
1
. un. s. .
the study nf affirmations that society to science, is to
heheve tn anymore. This IS whY
CoNFLICT oR UNION IN DIFFERENCE
'7'
.
1
becomes a statement one can adhere to or not: History-:-as a reference
. longer-has separa red behef from practice, smce It 1s obhgated to
what!S no 1 k d . F e
ro b r fs (mentalities) that are no onger m e to practices. or erteau,
sruldyl e close to che concept of the lifeworld formulated in Edmund
f h 'blb 1 Th
erl's late works. Belie is not t ematiza e ecause 1t IS not vo untary. e
one asks oneself, "Do 1 believe that?" one is outside belief ..
The centuries-long debate between sCJence and superstltlon has mvented
beliel as rhe acceptance of certain conceptions of reality, since believing from
that perspective refers ro superstition, while the sciences build true things.
This idea about belief has become even more radicalized in modern societies,
where systems ol credibility (credit) are heterogeneous, stratified, fragmented,
and imbricated in particular truth regimes. In a polycontextual sociery there
are many dillerent systems of belief, which is why those who live by one
system convert ro another only by adhering ro affirmations, not by particular
behavior. We could say, following Certeau, that in the present world che other
is always the one who believes. Each practice creares different expectations
sustained by different codes:
The same conventions of credit are practiced in contradictory
ways. Beliefs and behaviors maintain more and more unstable
relationships. The combinations between what we call conviction
and what we denominare behavior are unstable relationships (that
acquire multiple combinations). Unlike what would happen in
traditional societies, practice is no longer the rransparent objecrivity
of a belief. lt is necessary to distinguish them, and rhe distincrion
Itself, verbal and operacional, has become our conremporary
practice of belief; ir is a part of rhe gesture we expect a response
from. ("Une pratique sociale" 369)
For Certeau this resrricted idea abour belief is a modern invenrion, and ir
refers to the adherence or lack of adherence of starements; ir did not exisr m
societies. This separation has not been quick, since ir is sr.ill used
m polirics, after having supplanted religiosity. Superstitions are Out
gestures that ha ve become separated from rheir belids and that contmur ro
await a response. For rhere are people roda y who worrr rhe
evil eye, bur a rationalist will mainrain its falsehood. Ir is <1 hdief exiled
scicnrific knowledge, a relic of a Gestures rhar .tre ,,.-url"l"nrly devmd
of legitimacy exist in publil discourse. Though the .II"l" presenr. rhey
ha ve heen disinherited by the current systtm of . . .
For Certcau, the Enlightenment aeated tht populdr, supt'-rstltlon .IS .t hehef,
anda ncw strategy hctwten saying and Joing. Btlid has .t worJ R.llllf'
ALFONSO MENDIOLA
and ambiguous. One thinks that belief has to do with the fact that a e
still exists, but w1thout legtlmate entena to accept ir." onduq
4.3. The "Rpondant"
Belief refers to that world that cannot yet he treated legally. Such b \'
1
constitute contracts but are not verifiable by society-for example, .. ;,".
1
'
1
.. 1 3 .. "1 .,, . . "
marry you ; et s meet at p.m. ; Wl vtslt you tomorrow." lt is the
remainder that the law cannot control. To enter into a belief implies
between two actors: one awaits something and needs to wait, the other must
act so that the waiting is fulfilled.
But the problem is knowing if the rpondant exists. If the belief is directed
ata person, ata thing, ata saying, how can one be sure that "ir" will respond
to our expectation, if there is nothing to oblige it to do so from a legal
standpoint? To believe is to believe in the other, to lea ve oneself in the other.
But that guarantee is never definite. If "that," i.e., belief in the other, is nm
fulfilled, one cannot make a demand of the family or of the group.
But someone or "something" must respond from the place of the other.
Belief goes farther than the person who committed himself or herself; there is
always something behind commitment that strengthens belief. What is it11n
the endone must suppose that the there is will respond (another like another).
In the end one must believe that there is a rpondant, always neutral and
plural, since one will never be able to elect or recognize him or her. Sorne
examples include the neighbor, the party, and the leader. Depending on the
time period the rpondant is different. Certeau calls that other that responds
to "authorities" tradition but what is it called in a democratic world?).
There are different plac,es that make helief possible: these places allow belief
but .always the expression of a metonymy of something greater. Whar !S
lackmg
15
what keeps us walking to reach the rpondant, who is always absent.
Behef and lime are always joined (this joining is the circularity of the hved
present). Behef does not walk along the singular, but the indefinite plural (the
other/the others). For Certeau asking about the nature of the subject and the
ts the same: heterologies.
h
15
the dio;course of the other that is real. What is real according tn Roman
jakobson, has a metalinguistic funnion: .. One says rhat one says.'' Ir is a
12. Certeau Ji\lmKmshe.., h
1
h
11
of
helief, a Metlncrrancan nn e wccn two Wlth thl xon
une that 1 hel e that \tparare.., hehcvmg from domg ;.md an
ith nur dllln'- '- lcvmK wnh In thc ":ase, lxlicf '- right only m rei.H!Oil
omg. uf hd ( f . h
or fa1lurt but nnt truth J f l lt' an: per ormat1vc, suu.:c they rdtr to r1t l'f "li.Ll h
adherc.-.-. to thc l.ltur an a 'ICilt:'Sot. l\elief 1' lmkrd to proKtin. lt s dor that (
scourse that speaks of other discourses and that constitutes the a tapia of the
dr f b Jief. One must believe, but there IS no determmatwn as ro what must
act
0
e 1 h 1 1 f B
be believed. What is rea ts t e u m versa ate o commumcatwn.
f this we must return ro proverbs, chches, commonplaces. As Anstotle
0
gested, what is plausible is what guarantees the real. To think about belief
risk oneself in the construction of a poetics of the impossible. One can
never be sure about whether "!1 y a un rpondant."
Universidad Iberoamericana
Works Cited
Ahearne, Jeremy, Luce Giard, Dominique Julia, Pierre Mayal, and Olivier
Mongin. "Feux persistants: Entretien sur Michel de Certeau." Esprit
Mar. 1996: 131-54.
Boureau, Alain. "Croire et croyances." Michel de Certeau: Les Chemins
d'histoire. Ed. Christian Delacroix, Francois Dosse, Patrick Garcia, and
Michel Trebistch. Brussels: Editions Complexe, 2002.
Certeau, Michel de. "The Black Sun of Language: Foucault." Heterologies:
Discourse on the Other. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: U of
Minnesota P, 1986. 171-84.
--. "L'Institution du croire: Note de travail." Revue des sciences religieuses
71 (1983): 61-80.
--."Une pratique socia le de la diffrence: Croire." Faire croire: Modalits
de la diffusion et de la rception des messages religieux du XII au XV
sicle. Ed. Andr Vauchez. Rome: cole francaise de Rome, 1981.
Foucaulr, Michel. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Hum<111
. Sciences. New York: Random House, 1973.
GJard, Luce. "lntroduction." Histoire et psychanalyse: entre science el fiction.
Ed. Luce Giard. Paris: Gallimard, !987.
Hartog, Franc;ois. Rgimes d'historicit: Prsentisme et exprie11tes du temps.
Paris: Seuil, 2003.
Karen Lurkhur
poUCING THE BOUNDARIES OF MASCULINITY
rN LA FILLE DU COMTE DE PONTIEU
C
lovis Brunel describes the medieval cante, La Filie du Comte de Pontieu,
as rhe firsr French novel/e (111). lts style ts a mtxture of chronicle and
narrative (Crow 16; Virz 96-125) and irs subjecr marrer is rhe family hisrory of
the Counrs of Pontieu, alrhough as Danielle Rgnier-Bohler argues, iris more
a "fable biographique" (75) rhan a srricrly historical accounr. There are rhree
differenr versions of rhe work, rwo of which date from rhe rhirreenrh cenrury
anda third from rhe fifteenth (Crow 1 ). 1 concentrare on rhe shorrer thirreenrh-
century texr. Based on rhe earlier, more derailed rhirreenrh-cenrury narrarive, ir
omits much of rhe religious overrones and chivalric concerns of irs prororype
(Crow 3-1 0).
1
lrs style, furthermore, is extreme! y spare. As Joan Crow poinrs
out, "In presenring scene and characters ... [rhis versionJ ... confines irself ro
facts rhar are essenrial for our undersranding of a given siruarion" (3). Since
the narraror's lack of inreresr in analyzing rhe srare of mind of rhe characrers
at crucial poinrs makes possible "endless critica! specularion" abour motive
(Crow 4), rhe righrer focus of rhe shorrer work offers a wider inrerprerarive
horizon.
The bizarre plor of La Filie certainly invites narrarive analysis. The work
begins wirh rhe marriage berween Tiebaus, rhe nephew of rhe Counr of Sainr
Poi, and the daughter of bis lord, rhe Counr of Ponthieu, a woman known
only by rhe rirle of "rhe Filie." Their marriage is happy bur childless and in
order to remedy this situation, rhe couple sets off on a .to Sainr
James of Composrella. They are ambushed en routt and rhe Filie ts raped
mulriple rimes while Tiebaus lies bound and helpless. After rhe artackers lea ve,
she tries ro strike down her husband wirh a sword lefr hehind by ont of
their assailants, hut instead inadvrrrently rurs through rhe ropes him.
Other than placing rhe Filie in a nunnery hefore (Ontinuinp, on h1s
Tiehaus shows little reaction either ro hcr ro1pe or ro her artcmpr ro kili
Whcn rhey rerurn home, he is pcrsuadcd hy his farher-mlaw ro re.ounr h,.
unfonunare adventure. The enraged counr stals his ddughrer 111 a bourd and
l:asrs her into rhe sea. She is rescueJ hy Flemish menhdnts and taken
10
rhr
l. Crow rejtt.."IS 1\rund's 1S h)' lluhus 1.\.l.h-l-:"),
that the shorter trxt 1s of the Crow 1-18 111nd Rrunt:'llul.
l"hf' ll.cl>dfllc ll.'I'U'IJ.' Vtlmnr lil' Numtwn 1-.2 O ThC' lrmh"fltlll.nlunlhl llnl\('"n.lt\
KAREN LURKHUR
kingdom of Aumarie, where she marries the sultan. Sorne years
h;IS given birth toa son anda daughter, Tiebaus, her father
appear in the sultan's court as prisoners. After the three exp er brother
. . f
tor therr treatment o her, she manrpu ates the sultan into Ietting h
1
rse
Aumarie with them, taking her son with her but abandoning her '
1
"''
d f R h h ter. he
reumte amr y ourneys to ome, w ere t e pope reconfirms the Fille
Christian, baptizes her son, and ratifies her marriage to Tiebaus In due co asa
urse
she gives birth to two more sons, who become the heirs of Saint Poi and
Pontieu. The daughter she lea ves behind eventually becomes the grandmother
of the medieval hero Salad in.
Rgnier-Bohler argues that the narrative motor of La Filie is the heroine's
infertility (89).
2
The text centers around the trials she undergoes befare she
can provide Tiebaus with two sons. Her rape, her abandonment at sea, her
second marriage, and her apostasy are all necessary preuves befare she can
escape her sterility (Rgnier-Bohler 85). For Dona Id Maddox, on the other
hand, the Fille's marriage to the sultan is the most significan! of her adventures.
He maintains that the wide variety of matires of which La Filie is composed
can be explained by the work's desire to connect the house of Pontieu to the
medieval hero Saladin (100).
3
On the surface, the Fille's oscillation between two men would seem to
invite explication by Ren Girard's theory of triangular desire,' but the Fille's
independence problematizes the applicability of Girard's paradigm. Rather
than being a passive vessel u sed ro channel the subject's desire for the medtator
(Girard 46-47,50-51 ), she uses Tiebaus and the sultan ro pursue an agenda m
which their wishes are of no account. S he uses the control she exerts over bo[h
her Christian and her Saracen husband ro criticize and shape the manhoodof
each._l link her complicated erotic life ro a specific discourse of mascuhntty
runnmg beneath the surface of the text one constructed using narrauve
structures borrowed from the chansons geste.
. Although La Filie du Cornte de Pontieu is not a chanson, it is clearly
mfluenced by this genre. This can be most clearly seen in the existence of
C_ompare Duhuis's characterization of the Filie as "le tremplin qui lance
act10n daos une direction nouvel\e" (
5
ZS).
3. Maddox argues that both h h' h . f Filie
. fl
1
e t lrteent - and fifteemh-century vcrs10ns o ,a .
were by a general desire in medieval Europe to explain Saladin's vicwnes
- nstehn omh by_ creatmg for him a European ancestry (1 02-3 ). D. A. Trotrer a !so
pomts out t at t e Coums of Pont" h d b . . . d and
the Founh (" . d d

a een_ assoc1ated w1th hoth the Secon
reputation es, an a cnnneuum to this pivota! figure would only cnhance rheir
4. argues that when rw d. d f
une 1s alwayo informed by and .
0
v uals compete over an ohjeLt, the Jes1rc
0
cnntmgem on the desire of his rival (7, 46-47,
MAscuLINITY IN LA PILLE Du CoMn PoNTIEU 177
. h' rhat Lynne Tarte Ramey describes as quintessential to the
h relanons IP h d S bl
1
' . h ]ove between a Chnsttan kmg t an a aracen no ewoman
hansons. t e h f F h b Sh
' Th Filie does start out as the daug ter o a rene count, utas aron
1
391
hre poi.nts out her renunciation of her faith in order to marry the
Kmos 1 a '
1
rurns her into a "genuine Saracen queen" (189). Moreover, when her
appears in the sultan's court, she follows the pattern established in
rhe chansons and rejects her Saracen attachments rn favor of her FrankJSh
husband.'
Kinoshira, however, argues against reading the Filie merely as a cipher
(or male Frankish intereses. Although the erotic conquest of Saracen women
by Frankish heroes symbolically corresponds to the Frankish occupation of
Saracen land, the Fille's adoption of the Saracen faith problematizes this easy
equation (Kinoshita 183-84). Instead, her conversion is a rejection of "the
feudal patriarchy that had discarded her" (Kinoshita 184). Admittedly, the
Fille's decision to abandon her Saracen husband and return to her French
lamily sits uneasily with the subjectivity with which Kinoshita credits her, but
the paradox that she embodies finds a parallel in the chansons in the role of
the Saracen princess. As Sarah Ka y argues, "The Saracen princess [. .] does
not mere! y venrriloquize a controlling masculine fantasy: she helps ro shape it,
and thereby disrupts assumed hierarchies" (46). Like her chanson counterpart,
the Fille's participation is essential ro rhe values espoused by La Filie, but her
promonon of these values cannot help but undermine them.
Kmoshita has previously pointed out rhe extent ro which Tiebaus's success
depends on the Filie. He "realizes the fondesr dream of chivalric vourh-
acquiring a great feudal honor-not rhrough his own skill-ar-a;ms bur
byconsenring ro rake back the wife who had previously tried ro kili him"
192). The Filie, however, is much more active in securing Tiebaus's
tnumph than Kinoshita's formulation suggests, and ir is rhe narrarive's
dependence on her that ultimately marks its distance from rhe chansons de
?este. Beca use the discourse of masculinity in La Filie du Comte de Pontieu
15
m.ediated directly through her, Tiebaus must demonstrate rhe super_iority
of h1s manhood not by vanquishing his opponent on rhe hattletield as m rhe
chansons, but by winning back his wife. Yer she is nor merely a prize.
her participarion is essenrial in establishing Tiebaus's daim ro male
To this end, the Fille's mosr imporrant act in rhe firsr half of
15
to attempt ro murder Tiebaus afrer rhey are attacked in the woods. 1 h1s IS one
S. Kino!ohlta relates the Fille's Je(;ision ro lea ve Aumane ;mJ rt'turn to 1-"roma {ll
Isla mil: pe-n.:('ptHm o( Frankish ( 1 ).
6. The strUI.:ture of rhe narrat1Vt" lends itsdt tn two ma1nr Jnsums--iht' hllt''s llk
m hance dnd her life in Aumarit'.
KAREN LURKHUR
of rhe most puzzling aspects of the narrative.
7
Kinoshita very
1
the heroine's hehavior to "her devaluation in the feudal poi,., egafntly link1
. ICS O Ji
188), pointing out that her dynasttc value had been compromised
childlessness and then by her rape, whtch would undermine the le . . Yher
anY child she subsequently bore 1180). Certainly, the explanation thgntmhacyof
. b h f . att eftll
la ter offers, that she was dnven y t e ear that Ttebaus would punish h fe
rhe shame she incurred at the robbers' hands (La Filie 32-33) sugge terhor
. 1 . . h ' . ' SSt at
she ts oppr.esse? but ro e m promotmg t e text s parad1gm of masculinity
problemattzes mterpretmg her rnurderousness solely as a re be ilion against her
place in the patriarchal order.
Our heroine enjoys a great degree of independence in this work, a
circumstance that Evelyn Birge Vitz links to her role in perpetuating her family
line: "\Slhe is there to bear the dynasty's future; she is, if you will, its 'womb,'
and its female'sexe,' its feminine and maternal principie" (104). Her autonomy
cannot, however, be attributed solely to her biological function. lnstead, it is a
necessary parr of her duty to police the boundaries of male identity.
1t is this obligation that motivares her attempt to kili Tiebaus-she is
punishing him for his inadequate masculinity. As Vern L. Bullough poinrs
out, the simplest, most universal definition of manhood can be reduced toa
triad: impregnating women, protecting dependents, and serving as a provider
to one's fami\y (34). Tiebaus, however, can neither impregnare nor prmect
his !he_se masculine failures, moreover, are foreshadowed by his social
margma\zatiOn.
The of his position 5 apparent from the moment that he
the narratlve. Although he is the heir to the Count of Saint Poi, his mothe_r s
brother, the fact that his inheritance does not descend from his father robs hlm
of _the integral to the privilege enjoyed by the other principal men in
thls text,_hls father_-in-law and the su !tan. Beca use his prospects depend on the
hls uncle wil\ rema in childless, a point to which l shall
rodu as_constantly threatened by the possibility that the count mlght
\unll ?'r se cae" (La Filie 1) (lan) heir from his flesh). Moreover,
l e lS une e ts alwe he b . "
0
vres
bacelers" (L F"l/
1
' must su Slst, according to the narrator, as a P
a
1
e ; poor bachelor). H
7. For a .. discuo;sion of thr variouo; h .
Brunel vn-vui and Dubuis
52
S_
29
t eone!> advanced ahout her
H. Ahhu_ugh Vitz poinro; out the nJ
nephew m medievalliterature (
123
grh

the hnnd hetween maternal unde J,

11
discuso; m morr detail beinw s.u n.
26
l, Tiebaus's econnmic condition, wh1ch l "'
Count o{ Po\. lndee..J ;hr hr rrcewes lntle material !.upport frolll thr
K.ay argues IS a hints at the type of father-son conflr.::
as eu tu hs unde positions the two de geste (92-103). Tiebaus's
pposmg s1drs of the intergenerauoT
MAScuttNITY IN LA FlLLf Du CoMn. D PoNTIW 179
es rhe same rerm to describe himself when he reveals. his erotic
Tiebaus File
10
his lord: "U le sui uns povres bacelers, maiS de rous
nreresr mdt e 'rre rerre je n'ameroie tant nul con demoisel1e vostre Filie"
. aus e vos . 1 f 1
les JO'-
2
. ama poor bachelor, but of all of the ewe s o your and, !lo ve
Lah e 'muchas rhe damsel, your daughter). The rerm bacelers is best
norhmgf::m the chansons where, according ro Jean Flori, it has no specific
or social signification but rather refers ro one who is either youthful
the qualities of youth (312). Tiebaus's use of rhe adjecrive povres,
however, reveals rhe social and economic inferiority from which a bacelers
might suller (Fiori 300-304 ). His own economic siruarion is such rhar he must
join rhe household ol the more powerful Count of Pontieu.
9
The lowness of his
social condition is especially pronounced compared ro that of his wife's second
husband. Rather rhan awaiting the death of a relarive in order ro come into his
inheritance or being obliged to sustain himself by military service, the sultan
enjoys sovereignty over the kingdom of Aumarie. He has airead y achieved the
status and independence for which Tiebaus must wait.
Tiebaus's poverty is echoed by his biological inadequacy, a failing thar is
antiCipa red by his uncle's childlessness even befare it is revealed by the steriliry

his .marriage. The count is an earlier incarnation of bis nephew, bequeathing

hJm.hls title as well as bis infertility. While bis unde's lack improves Tiebaus's
manral.prospects by positioning him as the future Count of Sainr Poi, ir
undermmes his masculinity when he, too, becomes afflicted by it.
. :he texr's concern with virility can be seen by rhe comparison thar ir draws,
m Jts opening lines, between rhe sexual vitaliry of the Counr of Sainr Poi
that of the Counr of Ponrhieu. As rhe Counr of Saine Poi declines into
0
d the Counr of Pontieu engenders children by rwo differenr women
Ftlie 1 ). Befare his first wife dies, she gives birth ro rhe Filie. After her
f earh, he remarries "tant tosr" (La Filie 2; right away) and shorrly afrerward
i arhers a son by his second wife. Bullough argues rhar sexudl vigor was_ an
component of male idenriry. Men were expected ro sansfy
theu female partners because according ro medieval medica! op1mon, women
needed to achieve orgasm borh ro ensure rhat rhev remained in good healrh
and to release sperm, a step rhat medieval doct<_;rs believed necessary
for conceprion (Bullough 39-40). The Count of Ponrieu's rwo w1ves, as
as the children who attest ro his successful lmre-makiog, are- thus physJcal
-
struggle that rypi.: rd.numshr hetwet:>n
(K.ly 92-101).
9
T1ehaus's nlilrKIIlill st.ttus turther hnks L1 f"lilc .lu Co f(' w thC"
(hanso"s d( .:esl('. poverty ..:ert,linly nurro)rs rhe :onJmun uf a numht-r ot hen:)("S
n the chansons /Hon .1UU-.Hl4l.
t8o
KAREN LURKHUR
demonstrations of his manhood: The Count of Saint Poi, 00 the other

5
unable ro provide any such ev1dence. hand,
The Tiebaus and his uncle, in wirh the litnit
discusston of T1ebaus s ancesrry. deepens the uncertamty abour the k . ed
sexual potencv. His uncle and his morher, beca use she is pivota! ro h. ntght's
as his unde's .heir, are the only relatives of whom we are told.
rhe paucity of detail about Tiebaus's lineage can be explained by the
d
. f . . l
1
exts
reluctance ro inclu e m or.matlOn not stnct y re evant ro the plot (Crow J),
the absence of other famtly members from the work both robs him of
genealogical anchor (a factor that further undermines his social status)
contributes to rhe impression rhat his family is not prolific. Unlike his wife, he
has no virile relative in his farnily history, a lack rhat implicitly attributes the
couple's childlessness ro him rather than her.
Tiebaus's sexuallistlessness is thrown into even sharper relief by the suhan's
fertility. While he is obliged to undertake a pilgrimage to alleviate the five
years of barrenness that characterizes his marriage, shortly after making her
his wife the sultan fathers a son with the Filie (La Filie 20). As we\1 as by
his virility, Bullough points out rhat in medieval medicine, the strength of
a man's rnanhood was dernonstrated by rhe sex of his child. A man's sperm
was considered to greatly influence whether rhe fetus developed as a male
or as a fernale. "Strong maJe sperm tended ro reproduce in another human
being the sex and characteristics of the individual from whom ir had come"
(Bullough 40). lf the child was female and resembled its mother, the female
sperm was considered to have vanquished the male sperm. If the child was
a resembling its father, on the other hand, rhen rhe male sperm was
consJdered ro ha ve been dominant. "iT]he dominant male would ha ve sons
who him; if a man had a daughrer who did not resemble him in any
way, qmte dearly the wife's seed was dominant and al! the world could


(Bul\ough 40). The sultan's son thus points to rhe strength

15
mascuhnny, as the of Saint Pontieu 's son does to his. Tiebaus, by
contrast, can produce neJther son nor daughter
Yet, at least from a strictl r . f the
quahties that Bul\ough ar pers?ective, he does possess one_ ro
dependents (Bul\ou:h
34

to identicy: the abdn;ical

ordering the work r_emp?ranly d1sregard the of
narrat1vc, the Coum of Pnmieu\ lt frorn the es
bacders in h_is employ ., influenced to gve h1s daughter to rhe


day be the nf Saim Poi and h Ti fau that Tiehau!-. he
yc_)un .. g man t_o oin his household la u..,_ s prowco,;o.,. After he mvltt'S nt
bien \La tht:: Cnunt of lnntleu quens de_ Pontiu en molt
Ahhough La hile not expa d a"mg\y enoycd many hendi
Tiehaus\ role as a kmght, we h\he nature of thesc hendlrs, gvt'll
asona y a.,.,ume that thcv derive, nt lea!>l
1
his chivalric performance, especial! y since it is precisely "faju
in partd,' rorm urnoiement" {La Filie 2; after a tournament) that Tiebaus reveals
aJr un o .
rer, lor rhe Filie ro hJS lord.
pacr ofTiebaus's prowess on the count's decision, however, extends
value of the service that he provides.l turn to Gayle Rubin
be:f:cidare rhe connecrion between the knight's martial skiiJ and bis marital
Rubio points out that a boy's accession to masculinity depends on
ihe recognition of his status as a man by other meo. This recognition aJlows
him ro share in the fundamental privilege of manhood, control over women 's
bodies (Rubin 19!-93). If we read Rubin's theory alongside Bullough's
rripartite definition of male identity, the importance of Tiebaus's milirary
performance and its implications for his ability ro provide physical protection
becomes clear. His prowess justifies his daim to manhood, which rhe counr
acknowledges by granting him the Filie. Yet Tiebaus's martial abilities are
insullicient ro protect his wife, and beca use bis skill on the banlelield is rhe
basis of his claim ro masculinity, the attack by rhe robbers essentiaJJy unrnans
him.
Given the narcative's terseness, rhe importance of Tiebaus's failure in rhe
woods can by gauged by the leve! of detail with which iris treared. The ground
for his humiliation is prepared even before his encounrer with rhe robbers.
A_s Adler notes, on rhe morning of rhe arrack, the rexr emphasizes
h.,_,JJ health (228). When he wakes up, he feels so lisrless rhar he direcrs his
retmue, wirh rhe exception of his chamberlain, ro rraveJ on while he lingers m
bed (La Filie 6). A little while Iarer, he, his wife, and rhe chamberlain ser our
by _rhemselves, a decision rhat rhe narrator implicitly criricizes by srressing
ther solirude: "li troi sains plus de conpagnie fors que de Diu" (LJ filie 6-?;
the three wirhout any company other rhan God). When rhey come ro rhe
Woods, however, Tiebaus renders himself and his wife even more 'ulnerable.
orders rhe chamberlain to hurry ahead ro meer rhe re-sr of rher parry and ro
mstruct rhem ro wait beca use, as he ironically remarks ... La1de cose esr d dame
de.chevaucier parmi foresta pau de compagnie'' (Lu 1-11/e -;Ir 15 Jn unpie-Jsa_nr
for a lady ro ride rhrough rhe foresr w1th 'te_r
desp1te this realizaran, he and rhe Filie enrer rhe woods Jlone. (,,ven hl!io
Physical frailty and rhe faa rhar as a pilgrim. he JS unarmed. th
1
" Wtluld
to be a display of remarkably poor as not. htHH\'t"f, hrst
intellecrual error in relarion ro h1s wite. lndeed, as rhe t"n"nts rh.n tolln\\ pn.wt",
his decision ro take her .tlong wirh him ro(. l!!> enn.-eh .JJ,,;ofk."t"IVrd.
A!<. enttr rhe forest, his l.1 ...k tlt udgmtnt '"' rhrown rthet 1-w
inahduy to whid1 pMh should ...
turns ro tht hllt tor She rdl!!> h1m Ctl )odt't l.a !'
the onl'). Tleh.HI)o, howt'Vt'f, dt,f!<> ro nde JIOnl( rht' rnutt" rh.ar had d n
Wll..ltned hy rohhtr!'> ro Jure rr.l\eltr... \'lf7 rhs Uk."l t"Ot
KAREN LURKHUR
asan example of the narrator's flirtation with religious all
Tiebaus's inability to choose the "good'' road also indirectl egory (114),
10
bu,
intellet.:tual weakness. He underestimates the danger that: on his
wife and overestimates his ability to provide protection. wans hrn and his
When they come u pon the he te lis the Filie not to be afra
Filie 8), but even though he ktlls three of them, he is ultimar
1
d td lla
The remaining robbers tie him up and throw him into a b
his honds and the briars u pon which he is cast render his body pus. Both
. .b d. Id . asSJveand
vulnerable, tratts usually asen e m O French l1terature as a wholeto f
1
bodies rather than male.
11
Tiebaus's loss of masculinity is further
by the between the in whic? the treat him
manner m wh1ch they treat h1s wtfe. Befo re h1s assa1lams toss him among the
brambles, "llli tolirent sa reube dusc'a le cemise" (La Filie 9; They stripped
his garments down to his chemise).
12
The same phrase is used to describe
the manner in which they handle the Filie: "[L)i . tolirent sa rebe dusc'a
la chemise" (La Filie 9; they [ ... ) stripped her garments down to herchemise).
The similarity between these statements is a reflection of the repetition and
symmetry that structure the entire narra ti ve (Vitz 100-101 ), but it also equates
Tiebaus's helplessness with rhat of his wife. The thorns piercing his body,
moreover, obliquely reference the more graphic violation rhat she suffers.
To add to the humiliation of his defeat, Tiebaus must look to the Filie
to rescue him from his predicament. After the robbers lea ve, he asks her
untie him, complai ing that the thorns "me grievent molr" (La Filie 10; pam
me greatly). Yet it is not the thorns that cause him anguish, but her rape, a
situation that can be partially attributed to his poor judgment and inadequate
prowess. Tiebaus, however, cannot confront his failure to prorect the person
whose very body sustains his claim ro male identity. He thus ignores the rape
and concentrares on his own injuries. This inability to face his wife's sexual
victimization and its implications for his manhood also explains why he does
not mention the assault to the members of his party when he and the Filie are
reunited with them (La Filie 11 ).
The Fille, by contrast, refuses to ignore the incident as Tiebaus does.
her murderous rage toward him is driven by the facr that she holds
hlm for the attack. Admittedly, rhis inrerpretation is difficult
wnh the explanation that she evenrually provides. She attempte_
to f'
1
hlm, she maintains, "lplor le grant honte qu'il avoit veu que ele avot
sou ferte et rechut devant lui" {La Filie 32; beca use of the great shame that he

o( the New Testament is unmi!.takahle" (Vitz 114).

12. 120. A\so see Lurkhur 41-61. nol
pursue the impll!.:ations drawn between Tiebaus and the Filie hur J(
MAscuLINITY IN LA f'u_u: Du CoMTt: Dt: l'o
d eceive in front of him). She claims, furthermore, that she
,aw her suffer an h: hold her responsible for being dishonored (La Filie 32).
(eared rhar he sits uneasily with the mutual affection thar once
Yer relationship wirh Tiebaus. Befare they marry, Tiebaus and the
charactenzerelyconfess rheir desire for each orher to her father (La Filie 2-3),
Fil/esepara h b h b h
and until rhe afrermath o.f the. rape, t ey "ot appear e
. h rhe exception of thetr chiidlessness, a grant dedUJt vesqUJrent bren eme
'":ensamble" (La Filie 3; they lived together in great happiness for five years).
an When rhe subject of rhe pilgrimage is introduced, the text provides even more
compelling evidence of the regard in which they hold each other. As they lie in
bed, Tiebaus rakes rhe Filie into his arms and asks for a don. She unhesitatingly
answers: "[SJe je doner le puis, je le vous donrai" (La Filie 4; If 1 can, 1 wiJJ
grant ir ro you). Three nights larer while they are again in bed together, the
Filie turns ro Tiebaus wirh her own request. His response mirrors her earlier
words ro him: "(DJemands, je vous donrai, se je doner vous puis" (La Filie 4;
Ask, 1 will grant ir to you if I can). The similarity berween rhese statements is
another example of the narrative's use of reperirion and symmetry (Virz 100-
101), and Tiebaus's echoing of his wife's words corresponds ro the emorional
reciprocity of rheir relationship. Yet while rhis interlude establishes che deprh
of the couple's affection for each other in arder ro render their estrangemenr
more poignant and rhe Fille's desire for reconciliation more credible, ir also
the heroine's putative fear of her husband's reaction ro her rape.
Ths ghmpse into the marital bedchamber also implicirly criticizes Tiebaus's
pe.rformance as a husband. Earlier in rhe rext, I attributed his agreemenr. in
of his misgivings, ro rake che Filie with him ro Compostella (La Filie 4--5 J.
hs faulry judgment. The ease with which she overcomes his resisrance (La
5), furthermore reveals rhat his mosr egregious failing in this regard
15
unwillingness ;o govern her desires. One of rhe consequences of
overmduigence with which Tiebaus rrears his wife is his inabiliry ro exert hJs
aurhority over her. This inabiliry is so deeply entrenched rhar nor e\en
atrempr ro slay him can overcome ir. Rather rhan quesrioning or
her when she tries to strike him down, he merely chides: se Dm plasr.
neme ocirs huimais!" (La Filie ll; M y Godw1lhng. you
kli me today!). E ven her unrepenrant "Certes, pmse rnOJ" (l.J

;

pains me) fails ro elic.ir eirher his

15
only reactton 1s ro remove the sword trom her h.
shoulder, and her. back ro rhe path ,U.Il filie 111. lo le
The m whu;:h he her IS SJte h.s [.s .nolhlir)
of masculmuy converge. By behmd. ht .t .. klhl" The doistt'r
f.o protect her from the dangers rhat aw;ut her on tlf rhe nuns
r.:an hettcr guarantee her secunry th<m he. Murt"mer, rhe" .. He is
to whom he entrusts her ironit.-alh h1s tlWil sexu.1/
KAREN LURKHUR
unahle to w!f.e. Furthermore, as Kinoshita points
0
.
he detimnvely 1dennhed as the father of any child that she stnce he
alter her rape refuses to share a bed with her :&ht bear
return home. h1s has httle chance of remedying this they
Tiehaus is al so mot1vated by concern for his own Thn !180).
attempt to kili him dramatically reveals the dangers of his e Fllle's
her. Her initial promise not to be an encumbrance to him on ;hto.control
notwithstanding (La Fille 5), he, as well she, would be much safere ]Ournel'
1
11 Th h. h h k we<eshe
behind .' otster s.. e m "':' JC" e m_a es arrangements for her
entry htnts at th1s parncular consJderatJon: (1]1 pna a l'abeesse que cele da
\i gardast" (La Filie 12; he beseeched the abbess ro guard the lady). The
"garder" denotes both protecting and controlling, the two tasks that he is
unable to perform.
11
E\"en though he never punishes the Filie for trying to kili him, he is haumed
by her hehavior. Yet he cannot take any action against her. His ambivalence
spurs him to confess the events in the woods to his fatherinlaw. Admittedl}',
he does so under the pretense of relating a fictitious adventure, but the east
with which the coum draws from him the identities of the "chevalier" and
.. dame" (La Filie 13) in his narrative reveals his anxiety ahout his wife's
independence.
He cannot, however, face the full horror of the punishment meted out to
her. Beca use of his distance from the center of masculine privilege, he lacks the
experience to appreciate the full extent of the count's outrage. He assumes that
his lord\ vehement anger against the lady in his tale would dissipate once he
discovers her identity (La Filie 14 ), hut the count is not at a JI deterred by
knowledge that the woman whom he has vowed to hang, "a le brance d un
arbre par les treces, d'une ronse u de le coroie meisme" (La Filie 14; from
branch of a tree by her ha ir, or from a thorn-bush or by her very beh) is hls
own lndeed, he praises Tiebaus for turning ro him: "[B)ien en esres
venges qUI ramenee le m'avs" (La Filie 15 You who ha ve brought her ro me,
are well avenged). The coum interprets Tie,baus:s tale as a plea for assistance,
and the_ with which he takes charge of the situation reveals the
low estlmaton he holds of his soninlaw's masculinity. He finds it perfectl}'
natural that the younger man should cometo him ro discipline the Filie rather
than do so himself.
th the reality of the count's decisive action no more
. directly punlsh his wife. Tellingly paired with the other
ma e m t ls text, the coun young son, he pleads for her life as her father
13. Among the deliniuons of" d " . dr'
He cites Artur, ms. Crenohle

"Erre de la

.
chevaher.n O Et a cascune de 1(t1rdoltl
MAscuuNITY IN LA Fu.Lf Du CoMTt: Df: Po
I8j
F'/1 16-17). He attempts to move his lord not by force or
(La
1
esrically maJe spheres of activity in medievalliterature,
rhrowing himself at his feet (La Filie 16-1 7). His
br crying, Filie is another example of the lack of control that

The punishment inflicted by his father-in-law graphicaiJy

hehasover e;hat ir
5
he rather than Tiebaus, who exerts ultimare control of
connecr; rhem. Because Tiebaus cannot prorect the Fille, she
rhe him, and beca use he cannot control her, the count usurps the
rhar he, as her husband, wields over her body.
14
auUnlike Tiebaus, rhe Counr of Saint Poi is deeply entrenched in the patriarchal
srrucrure-hence his interesr in safeguarding masculine privilege. He is driven
ro pur his daughter to death beca use he interprets her murderousness as a
criricsm ofher husband's masculinity. This criticism undercuts the construcrion
of manhood as a specifically maJe domain. By daring to pass judgment on the
qualiry ofTiebaus's masculiniry, the Filie exposes women's role in creating and
susraining rhis strucrure. Srylisrically, rhe excessiveness of the counr's anger
counterbalances the excessiveness of the Fille's reacrion ro Tiebaus's inabiliry
ro prorect her, bur it also reveals rhe texr's anxiety about rhe FiJie's role in
determining and sustaining maJe identiry .
. When the count, his son, and Tiebaus appear in the sufran 's court, rhe fiHe
mtervenes again in Tiebaus's masculiniry, but her technique rhis time is less
threarening ro rhe text's parriarchal values. She begins by forcing the
kmghr ro confront the events thar led ro his emasculation. Beca use her family
not recognize her, she is able ro use her aurhoriry as rhe sultana ro compel
er father, who is srill entrenched in his role as rhe head of rhe famih, ro
o_f her (La Filie 30-32). Tiebaus musr rhe
h
1
aron of h1s w1fe s rape, her attempt ro kili him, and hzs mabhty ro save
the counr's rage. The effect of rhis accounr, as Adler poinrs out, zs ro
. gh!'?ht his powerlessness (231 ). Under the aurhority of h1s father-m-law, his
to protect or control his wife an objecr of open diS(.ussion, .1nd rhe
pnsoner of a Saracen ruler, Tiebaus's status as a man is ar irs nadir. On..:e he
has descended to rhis point, however, his forrunes begin ro chan!!e
Jusr as she once convinced Tiebaus ro ler her accompany him ro l'tlmposrella.
the Filie convinces the sultan ro take Tiebaus with h1m inro hanlr! l..J frlle .\5).
seeks to reesrablish Tiebaus's most compelling ,.-laim W maJe iJennry.
hls military prowess, and rhe sultan 5 an invaluable p.ut her As
wdl as providing the opportuniry for Tiebaus's pt>rformarh.:e ot he
thc ( 'ounr of Polllll'U, whu rvc-' .ll> .l tn TiC"haus
(sce K<l)' H for a of m C"p!d, h rdul..ush
Pltt>rn,ll nllltrol ovt"r tht' hile i1> another c-xamplc- nt thl"' tllther-Mm rnl0 rhat
111 rlu ,
KARf.N LURI\HUR
provides the audiem.e. Bul.lough points out that m.mhood RlUst
demonsrrated through acnon (34). The sultan, he\:ause of h.
and rhe t\\'O ;hildren who anest tu his viriliry, possesses th
15
Pohtcal Po\\}
with whi\..h to judge the quality of Tiehaus's
exhortation to Tiebaus: ''!Elt se vous onques fustes ence the F1Ue\
ore!" (La FJ!It 35; and if ever were a valiant man, le
lndeed, Tiehaus demonstrates h1s valor so strongly that the su Ira .. ) ...
reward him with land if he renounces his faith (La Filie 36). sw
1
ll
111
&to
howenr, whcn the Filie feigns illness in arder to lea ve the island
her f.nher, and her brother (La Filie 36-37), the sultan insists that

rake Tiebaus: "Je voel miex que vous l'emmens que les a u tres deus,car
liex ne sor terre ne sor mer qu'il ne vous desfende, se vous en avs
l].u Filie 37-38; l would prefer that you take him rather than the orhertwo
!prisonersj, beca use rhere is no place, either on land or on sea where he wil\
not defend you, if you need ir). The strength of his belief in Tiebaus's prowm
overturns the humiliation that the knight suffers in the first half of the text
when he is forced to watch his wife being raped. lndeed, Tiebaus's manhood
has become so firmly established at this point that it eclipses that of the Coum
of Pontieu. His lord, who once exerted such power over him, is dismissive\)'
referred to by the sultanas one of "les autres deus" (La Filie 37-38).
When they return to France, moreover, Tiebaus's renewed manhood is
crowned by the two sons he fathers. As well as attesting to his sexual potency,
his children, as Kinoshita points out, increase his social standing:
he descendants of the noble but relatively humble Tiebaus de Domart
inherit both Pontieu and Saint Poi" ( 192). Thus, by the narrative's concluslon,
Tiebaus, primarily through his wife's efforts, erases the social, biological, and
military deficiencies that plague him at the beginning of the work.
The Fille's rejuvenation of Tiebaus's manhood is counterbalanced by and
depends on her emasculation of the sultan. (Although La Filie is influenced
by the chansons de geste, the heroine's treatment of her second husband does
not spring from the genre's anti-Saracen ethos. Ramey points out that rhe
thirteemh-cemury version of La Filles is less hostile to
marriage than the later fifteenth-century text (5) where the Fille's
ofher old life functions as a "fairy-tale" ending.'"Her return to Frenchnesss
both natural and desirable, and the time she has spent as "Other" becomej
castas a period of servitude and subjugation toan unnaturallaw" !Ramey
98
'
10
. our thirteemh-century narrative, by comrast the Fille's "return to
wnh her previously rather ungrateful fami\y rem'ains something of a mysrer)'
[Ramey 96[.)
does not differentiate. between the two versions of the thirteenth-cencurl
MAscuuNITY IN LA Fuit. Du CoMn Df. PoNTJJ-:u rH7
h t the filie metes out to the sulran is, like her artempr ro kili
The r da by his insufficiently mal e behavor. Beca use of his social
Tiehaus,

her second husband would seem to be the reverse image of

randrertJI' 1 .. d 1
powe r Yer he suffers from the sarne mg-excess1ve.m, u to":'ard his
d k his predecessor, his acqmescence to the filies w1shes ultimarely
wrfe,an 1 e .
sulrs in his unmannmg. . . . . . .
re H. weakness 5 revealed from the very begmnmg of hts mteractJon wah the
Described as a "jovenes hom" (La Filie 19; young man), he is instanr/y
educed by her beauty (La Filie 19). As Kinoshita argues: "Our text [. .j
:arionalizes che sultan's willingness ro marry a Christian slave of undefined
lineage by ascribing ir to the irnpetuosity of youth: he is iovenes hom (265-66),
more ruled by desire than by reason" (183). He continues ro display rhis same
Jack of judgment throughout his marriage. For exarnple, when the FiJle asks,
he readily grants her the Ji ves first of the count, then ofTiebaus, and finally of
her brorher (La Filie 24-28), despite the lact that by obliging her, he breaks
his promise to his archers and soldiers ro provide them with a human rarget
(La Filie 24). His unquestioning agreement ro each of his wife's successive
requesrs implies rhar his generosity toward her is unchecked by moderation.
Moreover, his willingness ro disappoinr his army, not once, but three times,
suggesrs that his sense of political responsibility is douded by his desire for the
Filie. 1 also attribute his decision ro rake Tiebaus, a Christian prisoner whose
he naturally doubts (La Filie 35), with him into a barde against rhe
nval menacing his kingdom (La Filie 29) ro the dominance of his personal
feelings over his political acumen.
His gravest mistake, however, is ro let the Filie /eave rhe is/and with rhe!r

.(La Filie 37). The /oss of the boy, both his heir and the evidence of h1s
vnhty, undercurs his masculinity and destabilizes his hold on rhe rhrone by
threatening the succession. The daughter who remains with him both lacks
the polirical value of her brother and cannot compensare for rhe effecr on
her father's manhood. Indeed, as rhe product of female rarher rhan. maJe seed
(Bullough 40), she outwardly symbolizes the emascularion from whch he now
suffers. The sulran's degradaran parallels rhat ofTiebaus and his
10
rhe
first half of the narra ti ve. The Fille's betrayal reveals rhar like rhe he
15
unable ro assert his aurhority over his household, whde his lad ot awon ro
recover his wife and son recalls rhe erotic listlessness of rhe Counr ot Po/.
Thus by rhe end of the work, the posirions between rhe sulran.
are reversed. The channels rhe ro
T
1
he texr, 1s uneasy her rol_e 111 th1s tr.wster. pt)St"
0
mascuhnuy IS mterwoven w1th a warnmg ah(lut rhe thre.H r
to idenric_y. This danger is present in hoth of of
Her with Tiehaus ex poses rhe

menr
1
oned.
mascuhmty deslnbed hv Ruhm_ In rhis svstem, ,s 1 h.ne pre
KARF.N LURKUUK
aman access toa woman by a in degree of
Once he has won her, must contmue ro. demonstrare his :alent\\.
in "inme more than hefon:, 10 o.rder ro keep hls ;hOod,
undcr h1s authorlty and, m so domg, ro safeguard h1s identity
0
1Tlan
effect, possession of a woman both marks a man's performance

a
as es\ fui and, as Tiebaus 's experience demonstrares,
through which it can he destabilized. an avenue
The Fille's marriage to.the on the other hand, illustrares a different
threar .. second 1s not governed by the same srructures as her
first-lt 1\ nota her father and her prosptive
hushand (Kinosh1ta 183). In Aumane, she 1s cut off from her nexus ofsoc
1
a\
and fam1lial relationships, and although her acceptance of the sultan's propasa!
!!. constrained by her knowledge of "what it means w be raped" (Kinoshita
1 H3), her hody is essenrially under her own control. As the sultan learns from
her duplicity, however, a woman who is outside the medium of homosocia\
exchange has more freedom to act in her own interests.
The experiences ofTiebaus and the sultan both reveal that proper manhood
is rooted in good judgment, which should, in turn, express itself in the
appropriate control of women. Neither Tiebaus nor the sultan chooses to
curh the Fille's desires, a failure rhat results in their emascularion. Tiebaus
attacked and humiliated by robbers when he indulges her wish ro accompany
him to Compostella, while the sultan's immoderate generosity first reunites
her with her French family and then provides her the means with which to
es.cape from him.
Paradoxical\y, the heroine's independence, the very qualiry that is necessary
the text's definition of acceptable male behavior, also threatens
lt. the chansons, where rhe marginality of the Saracen ensured
.. depict1ons of the sarrasine wielding great power over her menfolk dld
not provoke ne.gative reactions" (Ramey 44) rhe cultural distance berween
Christian and Saracen that makes the action's of Saracen women palatable
to rhe chanson audience is, in La Filie du Comte de Pontieu, more apparent
real. Despite her conversion ro Islam, the Fille's return ro France makes
clear that her loyahies ultimately lie with her French Christian roots. She
ts a French who manipulares her french ;s well as her
characterization of her as a reflection of the men in her hfe
the text is ambivalent toward her activity. Her rreatment
MAscuLINITY JN LA Fni.E Du CoMTE DI: PoNTJEU 1s9
baus and rhe sultan is only partially mitiga red by the higher purpose of
illusrrious ancestor for her lmeage.
wmnmgan
Mount Saint Mary's University
Works Cited
Adler, Alfred. "ber der Prosanovelle La Filie du Comte de Pontieu."'
Germanisch Romanische Monatsschrift 43 (1962): 225-33. Print.
Brund, Clovis. Introduction. La Filie du Comte de Pontieu, nouvelle du Xllle
siCcle. Ed. C. Brunel. Paris: Champion, 1926. Prior.
Bullough, Vern L. "On Being a Male in the Middle Ages." Medieval
Masculinities: Regarding Men in the Middle Ages. Ed. Ciare A. Lees,
Thelma Fenster, and Jo Ann McNamara. MinneapoJs: Minnesora UP,
1994.31-45. Print.
Bums, E.Jane. "Refashioning Counly Love: Lancelor as Ladies' Man or Lady/
Man." Constructing Medieval Sexuality. Ed. Karma Lochrie, Peggr
McCracken, and James A. Schulrz. MinneapoJis: Minnesora UP, 1997.
111-34. Print.
Crow, Joan. "The Art of the Medieval Conteur: A Srudy of La Filie du Comte
de Pontieu." French Studies 30 (1976): 1-18. Print.
Dubuis, Roger. Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles et la tradition de lw nout'e/le
en France au M oyen Age. Grenoble: Presses Universiraires de Grenoble,
1973. Print.
Flori,Jean. "Qu'est-ce qu'un bacheler?: rude historique de vocabula1re daos
les chansons de geste du Xlle sikle." Romania 96 (1975): 2.89-314.
Prior.
Girard, Ren. Deceit, Desire and the Novel: Se/( and Other in Liter.Jr)'
Structure. Trans. Yvonne Freccero. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkms Press.
1965. Print.
Godefroy, Frdric. Dictionnaire de L'ancienne langue frwn,aise d Je tous S-e$
dialectes du /Xe au X Ve sii!c/e. Vol. 4. Genhe: Slarkme. 1981. Prmr.
Ka y, Sarah. The Chansons de Geste in the Age of Romana. Oxford: Cldrendon
. Press, 1995. Print._ __ - h
I<moshita, Sharon. Medteval Boundaries: Rethi11lung Dlfferena m OIJ frt!lfi
Literature. Philadelphia: Pennsylvania VP,1006. Pri_nr ..
La Filie du Comte de Pontieu, noUl'ellt Ju XII/e s1i'de. Ed. ( Brunel. P.tns:
Champion, 1926. Print. M 1 BoJ,.
Lurkhur Karen. "Redefining Gender rhrough rhe Arena uf rhe d, e l
Ret.:eprion of Thomas's in The Old Fren ... h l.t' Cht'rU H'"T
de la Charette and The O id lcelandic Saga a( Tristram k 1
University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign, 2008. Prin;. sodd." Diss.
Maddox, Female Founders in M
Genealog1cal Literarure and La Ftlle du Comte de Pontieu." Tb edleva[
and Cultural Ditersity: Selected Papers (rom the Eighth y'Courr
Congress of the International Courtly Literature Society th
Urrilersity o( Belfast, 26 July--1 August 1995. Ed. EvelynM:Il
John Thompson. Woodbridge UK; Rochester, USA: D.S. Brewe:,

97-107. Print.
Ramey, Lynn Tarte. Christian, Saracen and Genre in Medieval Frencb
Literature. New York; London: Routledge, 2001. Print.
RgnierBohler, Danielle. "Figures fminines et imaginaire gnalogique:
tude compare de quelques rcits brefs." Le Rcit bref au M oyen ge:
Actes du colloque des 27, 28 et 29 avril1979. Ed. Danielle Buschinger.
Universit de Picardie: Centre d'tudes mdivales, 1980. 73-95. Print.
Rubin, Gayle. "The Traffic in Women: Notes on the 'Political Economy' of
Sex." Toward an Anthropology of Women. Ed. Rayna R. Reiter. New
York: Monthly Review Press, 1975. 157-210. Prinr.
Trotter, D.A. Medieval French Literature and the Crusades (1100-1300}.
Geneva: Librairie Droz S.A., 1988. Print.
Vitz, Eve\yn Birge. "Story, Chronicle and History." Medieval Narratiue and
Modern Narratology: Subjects and Objects of Desire. New York: New
York UP. 1989. Print.
Andrew Pigott
OF NIGHTMARES AND WHALE OIL:
WlELAIS'S QUART LNRE AND THE LURE
oF DISENCHANTMENT
Enlightenment, understood in the widest sense as the advance
of thought, has always aimed at liberating human beings
from fear and installing them as masters. Yet the wholly
en/ightened earth is radiant with triumphant calamity.
Adorno and Horkheimer, Dialectic o( Enlightenment 1
"rhe true image of the past flits by,., wrires Benjamin, and ir srands ro
reason (255). The annals of human pain have swelled with ample
precedent; the discontenrs of our modero era are bound ro evoke rhose of
another. But thar is not all. In Benjamin's view, rhere exist monads," wherein
peoples pasr and present, no matter how far-flung, meet ro embody each orher's
Should the historian tune inro rhis concordance-coiling rhrough rime
!Jke a hidden frequency-the imervening years would coiJapse, and noU' and
convulse in mutual iiJumination. Which is ro say, cerrain
. ISfOncal motifs may at any momenr become legible, while orhers recede
mto the murk from which, though formerly obscure (or in any case: of scanr
relevance), the newest batch has emerged.
Now, as the tirle of my article suggesrs, 1 inrend ro rerrofir rhis rheory ro an
analysis of the Quart Livre, relaring rroubles in rhe rexr ro a rwennerh-cenru_rr
paradox. This may sound like a recipe for gross anachronism, and ir 1s,
bur I refer skeprics to The Design of Rabe/ais's "Quart Lit,re by Edwm
Indeed, Duval rilts gallantly ar rhe windmill of chronological chau\'lmsm.
He advocares insread a learned emparhy, bidding us rhink .Js
setting, with his work, a splendid example. Such Je_

dS
conrrary ro modero assumpcions ... j"l rhus read hke d m1ssJon
l. Here is a hrief "Conrrary ro mod("fn rhe
conrinued to reotd Homt!"r ;t!legoricdlly" (lOl; .. represen ro: .J
well, though nor tht' ont!" modNn

.. ... d/
Many mndern ed1tions deform R.Jbd.JIS tt'"xt ht'"re tS 1; 8ur t P
statement: f we not contextualize _Les et dicts Heroi ues
PtJntagruel, we w1ll foh uur preoccupatlons oft on the Renaiss q du bo11
ro understand anything M all. Still, ir is hard to imagine this :;cde and so fail
"hld .. f. "Y-artud
to rhe ot t e e_ . system, suspiClOUs o. utop_1as, and relentless
hunt for talse m WJth) any period prio/s
our nwn. l1u\'al adm1ts as much m an tmpassmned footnote: to
lf the Quart Lil're remains a painfully rele_vant book for us toda
it is precisely becJuse our own century, hke Rabelais' , .J
persisted in a headlong quest for the stasis of a definitive Answer
confirming in the process one of the most important
messages of Rabelais's last epic. From Stali ism, National
Socialism, and the Cultural Revolution to Zionism, the Jihad,
and the Christian Coalition, from the Shah to the Ayatollah,
from Capetown to Jonestown, the chronicle of our times has
confirmed Rahelais's fundamental insight that Utopias, Promised
Lands, Supreme Authorities, and Absolure Values, are the stuff and
substance of totalitarianism, imperialism, and oppression, and that
there can be no Last Word without the most unspeakable of Final
Solutions. (46-47)
Le Quart Ll're, then, remains pertinent to our da y and age. But does the
obverse not hold true as we\1? The concepts of "imperialism," "totalitarianism,"
and even "oppression" do not merely ha ve a history; they ha ve been fashioned
by history. Surely, the evils of autocracy and nation-state aggression have not
always appeared as self-evident as they do ro us (or so we flatter ourse\ves);
nor ha ve those evils always linked up, in such intima te cognation, to such an
of When, in a Satanic parody of transubstantiation, Duval's

converts. Last Words into Final Solutions, it transcends the

rehglous wars that rmled Rabelais's age and invests the defining trauma of
our Duval does not, for al\ that, fall prey to the anachronism rhat he
de_c,nes. Rather, he acknowledges a plain truth: sorne aspects of the Qu_art
Ln re more dear_ly to us than to readers of any other era, includlng
Rabelals s comemporanes. History has upturned a !ayer of embedded themes,
that tend ... 10 impre ...... modern reader . . .. en
.. Contrarr to what modem readers pomt t:f
he_rr that mnral wnrks and h D \. :1 (101); h should . r'
wtdely and appre,iated in e. beneficrrs in particular, Wl.:'tl'
am:e than they are in mudern nmes \1
. (f briefly) for our inspection, while secreting others more
made avadab/e 1
Jeep/y much
10
commend in Duval's book, 1 would like to examine
Whl<
1
mp of fresh-tilled sedrment, m other words to propose a new
JHcrenr e u h h Id h h
3
;o . Le Quart Livre, 1 shall argue, d1senc ants. r_ e wor at 1t e
3113
gyg chthonic deities for mere people, superstltlon for science, and (m
swappm d . e h . . h b
rhe oldesr sense of the wor ) pan.IC rerrors JOr tec m stJ Jt ar
ret {or rhe passing arder of thmgs and greets the commg d1spensation wnh
;e!easure of anxiety. At its best, Rabelais seems to say, this demythologizing
bent frees us from the heteronomy of Nature, which wirh bordes of
bogeymen-with spirits and satyrs and Satans writ smaH--once cowed us into
subservience; at its worst, he seems to warn, ir engineers irs own reversai: ar
which point, che primordial jungle flourishes in rhe insrrumenrs used ro rame
it, and enlightened man, his mind turned beiJy and his art turned black magic,
wreaks worse havoc than rhe devil himself.
Such, in any case, is the hyporhesis 1 seek ro prove. As readers will have
gleaned, ir is largely rhematic in characrer; yer rhemaric contenr here relates
crucial/y ro form. In lirerary masrerworks such as this, rhe one aJways shifts
ro accommodare the orher; ir rherefore becomes exceedingly difficulr, nor
ro say impossible, ro tease rhe rwo apart. Since 1 ha ve no imenrion even ro
rey, my formal analyses are bound ro carry rhe same anachronisric rainr as
my themaric glosses. This need nor be so. Lirerary history offers a perfecr
ana/ague ro Benjamin's rheory of .. monads": cerrain fearures of rhe work
become legible only u pon successive returns. Modernisrs Jike T. S. E/ior did nor
merely conrribure rheir own, incisive verse ro rhe canon; rher made access,ble
the delighrs of john Donne. SimilarJy-who knows?-Finnegan's WJke mar
well have primed us all for rhe dense, wonderful, po/yglot prose of Rabelais.
!.he point is rhar an aurhor's grasp may exceed her reach, and rhar rhe furure's
mnovarions" may reveal in her an unwitting forbear. ( Michel
a long iusr rhese Iines in his paean ro Du Bella y: "fD/'un cote ce '-:omptC' ...
he Writes, "c'esr bien le nombre resrreinr des pofomes dc1s1fs p.u oU, seul
de la 'modernir,' Du Bella y se fa ir encendre jusqu".l la ruprure
son originalit passe par cerraines lignes qui nous apparoussenr
3
Jui-meme, a SeS COJltemporains, ;l St"S mmdl.t(S"; anJ OUI('
potique s'invenre une tradition oU ce que nous .tvons appns J
011

{avec quelques autres) dle en anre/cho l.t p.tssion t"t k de Rdl1}
/. .]'_' f3S, .161). All of ntt" ro rdint" mr
suhmt, cou'-hed his amhl\'illt"IKt" _m dnJ
see almost everywhere, and rhat u pleases us ro '".di .
A number uf .1:. lnlKh
bur g1ven rhe conrroversv rhat ther ms1ghrs r<'
194
ANDREW PlGOIT
rhe modern aesthetic hardly goes without saying. What follows, then
illustration (and defense) of these two pomts of tangency. ,ls an
On Blubber, Wood, and Dirl
As ch.apters at straddle the Quart
Livre's "archltectural m1dpomt and mark 1ts drama tic chmax. As everybod,
agrees, chis is surely an fact: the c?nfrontation and its
represent the general thrust of thts not-so-errattc voyage; here, Rabelais seems
to proclaim, is my definitive statement, rhe crux of all that has transpired
or will take place. As to the meaning of that statement, however, a critica!
consensus has yet to emerge, and this is only fitting. A hermeneutical schism
ri\'es the text as well, opposing two irreconcilable readings of the Physerere,
embodied in the persons of Pantagruel and Panurge. The latter, of course,
breaks down and blubbers for reprieve, believing as always to ha ve encountered
sorne transcendent evil. The former calmly demurs, enacting a de-monstration
wonhy of the halest giant. These reactions conclude a tacit debate introduced
in previous chapters, throwing point and counterpoint imo stark relief. When
viewed in context, there can be little doubt as ro who advances the argument,
who issues the rebuttal, and what each position entails.
Panure
For al\ its menace and girth, the Physetere does not incite the first, or the
last, ?r. even the most extreme Panurgian ourburst. That honor goes to
which deprives rhe cuckold-pilgrim of his verbal faculues
( Bous bous ) as well as his continence. As Frank Lesrringant has shown,
the Quart Lvre here permutes a familiar topos, tracing back (via
to .Naufragiu.m, a satirical colloquy "qui vitupere le
culte tdolatre ren.du a l_a Vlerge et aux saints" (46). Though with its grotesqu_e
and lexlca\ htjinks Le Quart Livre depares significantly from thls
E uepnm,' aspects of the original persist: its typology of behaviors, for instance.
into two groups. On the one hand,
forgiveness and themselv_es in silence ro God, begging h
fd_low passengers fnrget
1
fm to Wtlrk H1s will. On rhe other hand, r
samts. lt is not so much th \ of al\ and attempt to bribe
and_backslide, as that they with 1mminenr death
rhe pr?per names-the Mar

the true fa_ith ro begm w1th, rh

the p_nestly nte!> and symb<lls-rh/ and Vmcents-a_nd re
flounshe_s, an age-old chants,_ and confessons-t e ro
every de.lty m the Catholic canon save the ;
1
!;e prnfhgacy nf prayers, sent r
polythe1sm that their l.ord e ame to supplant wh() counts, smacks of
'The many sohriquets (StM
R.ABELAIS ANO DISENCHANTMENT 195
rr of Salvation, etc.) assigned to the Mother of God make clear the
. times past rhe sea-faring crowd entrusts the steerage of

only now comes dressed as a Virgin.

irs course role:rly ro mock them, but ir must be admitted that they ha ve
sailors of old had good reasons to invoke her protection: spawn
foam, she herself issued from the sea; if flattered and cajoled, she
0
keep the waters glassy and the winds brisk. In maintaining
she points up the origin of alJ such deites. Any element that escaped
man's mastery must ha ve seemed to possess a (somewhat capricious) mind
of irs own. That grove-that star-that sea did not mereJy have appointed
gods; rhey were gods, at least of a semi-transcendenr sorr. Thus was heaven
debased and the earth exalted, with the two meeting somewhere in between to
engender a swarm of chthonic drives. lt comes as little surprise, then, to hear
rhese faux Christians drop rhe pretense of personificarion and appeal direcrly
ro the source: "O clementissimum mare, o generosissimum mare, o ditissimum
mare, o formosissimum mare; miresce, serva: huiusmodi multa occinebanr
surdo mari" (Erasmus 147-48).
Had Pantagruel and Pan urge boarded his ship, Adolphus would ha ve known
class them. The gianr prince falls unambiguously among rhe good,
lmplormg "l'ayde du grand Dieu Servateur," holding rhe masr "fort er ferme,"
and, as rhe storm reaches its clmax bowing ro rhe designs of Providence:
"All?rs feur ouye une pireuse de Panragruel, disanr 3 haulre voix:
"SeJgneur. Dieu, saulve nous. Nous perissons. Non rouresfoys advieigne scelon
nos affecnons, mais ta sainete volunr soir faicte [. .] , "
1
. As for his less
companion .... Though dearh by drowning looms, a felJow passenger
e.hcns from Aldophus a chuckle: firsr, rhis fool promises Sr. Chrisropher a man-
taper; then, when urged to modera te his pledge, he whispers hody: .. Tace,
mqutt, farue; an credis me ex animi sentencia loqui? Si semel contJgero rerram,
non darurus sum illi candela cadelam sebaceam., (Erasmus 148). P.wurge
the same swindle on rwo other saints: "Saincr MKhd d'Aure,
NJ.cholas, a ceste foys et jamais plus. Je vous foys icy bon veu ('( .i Nosrre
SeJgneur, que si a ce coup m'esrez aydans, j'enrends que me merrez en rerre
hors ce dangier icy, je vous edifieray une belle gmnde perite ou deux
I:J Entre Quande et Monssoreau,/ Et n'y pasrra v;1che ne Ql 311 ). As
Defaux explains: "(IJmpossible en effer de fairc." pditre Cc:'S les
deu.x villages sonr limitrophes. Done, pas de pi.Ke pour t.ure hher la ..znd<
Petae chapel/e non plus" (310). The humor of rhesc." St("ms trom
an incongruity: rhey call on rhe of He.n:en l'l\ n.une bur appe.Il w .l
hreed of pagan demigod--one powertul w ..:.Jim rhe ragmg !!oCa, yt>t
rhe f,)u.lfl 1 ll'rt' ul..tn t.-. 1111 C..d'rarJ l'k-tllu,.s P11ns:
Llhr,unt (,l'llt'r,tll f.rdll(.tl\t', 1"1'1 .. (U 1
ANDRI-:W PlGOIT
sufficiently tallihle to nukc: had business deals; one spiritual enou h
adoration, yet enough ro cover candles, statues, and shri g to brook
'lltlrt rhar h.\s mw:h in common with the "Semidieux Panes Sar nes-one, in
" . yres S 1 .
Folletz, /Egipanes, Nymphes, He roes er D.rmons" of the Macraeon'i Y
(.H9).
1
Now, 1 would like to suggesr rhar for Rabelais rhis confusi orest
rhan satiri\..-,11. Panurge bears special affinities with the primal foreon
15
rnore
sprites rhat inhabit it; hence his susceptibility. Which is ro say th;rband the
P . .mic terror ro which he frequently succumbs, and which ev;n a of
..:an ser off result not (onlj') from their victim's cowardice but from a
1
tyb-car
' ' ro Ust
connection to the realm of myth.
Poliziano (invoked in the prologue to Gargantua
4
) introduced rheword Pani
into rhe modero lexicon, transliteraring from Gree_k panikos and tracin;
its erymology to the famed Satyr, whose exploits he details
in rhe twenty-eighth chapter of his Miscellanea (Panici terrors qui vocentur,
eoque lompletissimi citati testes). This excavation would eventually seep into
the common doma in, finding a home in the modern European languages. As
Charles Dempsey explains in the most thorough treatment of the subject to
date: .. The ltalian panico and the French panique are new coinages of the
late fifreenth or early sixteenth centuries that directly derive from Politian's
explicarion of the Greek word, from which both are formed [. .[" (121).
Rabelais was surely aware of rhis. E ven if he never read Poliziano (and who
can affirm that he did not?), he would have encountered Erasmus's Adagia,
induding number lll.vii.3, which, borrowing heavily from the Miscellanea, the
learned Dutchman titled . Panicus casus. Pan and his terrors also provide
fodder for the adages Multa in bellis inania and Metum inanem Metuisti. The
laner tirle translates ro .. You were afraid where no fear was" and is echoed
by Le Quart Livre's twentyfourth chapter heading, "Comment par frere Jan
est desc\air avoir eu paour sans cause durant l'oraige." The former
mvokes the spectacle-recounted by two obscure Greek scholiastss and
relayed by welltrained armies, spooked by the Satyr's conch-
horn, retreatmg 10 wld disarray; it might as well describe Picrochole's routed
3. The enumeration in fa
1
b h ever
Pantagruel partia\1 ' u de ' . e to Pamagruel. As 1 sha\1 argue sho_n y, ow
maintain a the sustai . it. These fadmg presenc
4. "Croiez vous en vostre fo d r.:ompamon, d ssc,
pensas_l es a !legones, les onr.:que!> Homerc escrivent 1' J/ltade_ et O ) tic ,
E.us1at1c, Phnrnute et ,} ue d'" e luy onr calfret Plutarr.:he, Herachdes :Jc
F.d. Huchon d a desroh ?" Oewres completes
and /.e 1994 (7). Al\ citauon'> of Panllrge,
5. Namely, P!eudo-Theon and '>eu n fr_nm thls sourcc. . Tlu
o(CorreggiO's di See Erwm
Pao\o (London: lnswurc,
1
... "Et comme vous voyez un asne quand il a a u cul un restre
escarmouche uche qui le poinct, courir et 13 sans voye ny chemin
.Junonicque, ou une rompant son frain et renes, sans aulcunement
r sa charge pa ' . 1 1' . . . l

11
randre repos, et ne s;ayt on qUJ e meut, car on ne veott rten qu1 e
respire f. p. fuyoient ces gens de sens desprouveuz, sans cause de fuyr
rouche.l les poursuit une terreur Panice laquelle avoient conceue en leurs
ranrseue h . . ) A D b "n ., .fi .
120,emp as1s mtne. s. o serves, I-'tln cus .Js
rhe Larin epithet for Pan as god of trreststtble, overwhelmmg,
rerrors" (120). Given the perSistence both of the phrasmg and of the monf-
andgiven rhat, as Huchon and Moreau point out, this passage marks the "[pJ
remifre arrestation du mor [panique] en fran-;ais" (fEuvres 1152)-it seems
probable that Rabelais knew the term 's etymology. The Tiers Livre contirms
ourhunch. Lymphaticus figures among the many adjectives by which classical
Latin characterizes the pavor, metus, or terror broughr on by Pan (Dempsey
121); in his contrapuntal "blason de Tribouller," Pantagruel makes use of the
convention: "lymphaticque [ ... ) Panicque" (CEuvres 473).
The facts above strike me as compelling; 1 am aware, however, rhar they
alone do not prove m y point. How do we know thar, in portraying rhe panic
he had Pan Terri{icus specitically in mind? 1 mighr reply that
e possJbl!Jty of such a link must ha ve dawned on him sooner or later, and
lea ve ir at thar. But a stronger case can be made: at least one episode implicidy
the phenomenon with rhe god who lent ir his na me. The final chaprer
nds in a pitiable state: "[CJomme un boucq esrourdy, sorr de la Sourre
en chemJse, ayant seulement un demy has de chausses en jambe, sa barbe route
de miettes de pain, renent en main un grane chat Soubelin. arrach
autre demy has de [s]es chausses" (QL 619). A horrifying misdpprehension
him: "beau of he has
quer mfernal, the waftmg smoke for "la tumee des cUJsmes_d _En ter.
and for the feast's presiding devil. Accusromed by now w h1s tnend's
Panragruel genrly shoos rhe bogeymen hack ro
and mforms Panurge of rhe recent cannonade. Al/ in ;I/1, rh1s
seems to reprise the major meltdowns of rhe voy;1ge; yer ir Joes otter
new-namely a phrase rhe history of sheJs on (wh.H nne ,;an
only call) Panurge's "l;1 venus retenrnce Ju nert resrr.Jm .. .-r le
muscle nomm Sphincter (c'est le rrou du cull esroit Ji:'>sn/ue p.tr la \ehemen ... -e
de paour qu'il avoir eu en ses phuntustl.ms l'ISIOns" (b.! l. tmph;JsiS
iusr what exacrly Panurge ger!<> up ro l.t enrre
er (.'happuys de pain" (61 S), Rahd.tls nt"\t'r J.\ .. lllhl .a
fiiS appearance, we may h,u.J.nl ;he nwrph IIIW
. tful dozc:, tnbanctd hy mghrnure tht" t sn ... ue:-. nsmn:o.,"
g,rott':'>4Uem. The phraM: rh.tt 1 h.t\'t'
corrohor.ues thl!. Ir!. tr.l .. :t N .. J.. h f
0 Macrobius--<li whom Rabelais had clearly heard-and Artemid ,
Oneirio critil whtch Pantagruel reads m preparatlon for a farn orus s
and la ter ro interpret a nightmare of cuckoldry.
7
Of the fivous debate'
h
. . e catego
0
dream listed by these sources, t e !'tsum ( or phantasma in Greek) h tJes
M b" 1 "b
151
eleast
it oc.curs, .Js acro ms exp .ams, . etween waking and deep slee
in rhose hrst mtsts ot sleep when one sllll beheves oneself to be awake and h;;
ust fallen asleep, and whtch seems to be forcmg ttself m as wandering specters
of different size, shape or temper: etther )Oyful or dtsturbing" (Dempsey
1361
_
By the substanttve !'tston wtth the root tts root translates, Rabelais
ca lis anenrion both ro the phrase and to the spectes of dream that it cannot hel
but recall. In so doing, he implicares Pan in Panurge's disgrace. For as Wilhel!
Heinrich Roscher establishes beyond all reasonable doubt, antiquity blamed
its resrive nights on the Satyr and his ilk, going so far as ro name the former
.. Ephialtes," one of several terms for "nightmare."M The sources that contain
this iniormation are so plentiful and (to a living encyclopedia like Rabelais)
so ubiquitous-including among rheir number Lilio Gregario Giraldi,lsidore
de Seville, Saint Augustin, and Poliziano-that the author of the Quart Livre
cannot ha ve failed to encounter it.
9
In the final chapter, then, we discern traces of an old mythology where panic
anacks and nighr terrors result not (only) from misaligned perceptions, but
from actual run-ins with the supernatural. Furthermore, while the episode's
\ack of may not make for galvanic reading, it does confer a measure
of exemp\anty. As Pantagrue\ and company prepare their salutation," Frere
Jan goads Panurge with rhe following taunt: "Ce Diable fol est si lasche et
SI mescbant, qu'i\ se concbie a toutes heurtes de male raige de paour" (615).
]an may \ack compassion, but the substance of his reproach we can only
6 ... De l'austre couste p
1
e
f_aisoit que revasser aprs entra en la haulte game et toute la
mtrr.Jbd1bus. Le livre de de dr_ numeris et signis. Le on
\ .. r (<Eiwres 283-284). e magia. Les hvres de Artemidore perlO omrocrltiC
7, "J'entends (dit Pamagrue\) si., . . ar
songes, que vostre femme ne Vous ugement aulcun en l'art de ton
comme purtem les Satyres: et apparence
ams a se abandonnera,et vous tlendra foy ne loyaulte os&
par comme le dil .. " (<bw a coqu. Cestuy poinct est apertement exp
8. See H11lman, Pan r.md the Night;,a;;s 393-394)
9. Nor_ Wa!o the only one tn kn.o . .
demnnstrate!> m her <.;tunning\y rich w hls mythology A'"i fnm;oisl'
merry of Satyrs t\ouri.,hed l.a Syrin; a u Hti:IJer, Pan and
les arts et dan!lo pre .. que tous les champs d R.enals_sance, he!.:oming "omniprscnts
her readmK of ( 11 ). ()f tangential intl'ft'Sl ((l
a
0
an -216), and her novel hcr chaptl'f 011 JI e
Jargantua ... ).
. . f r incontinent crisis, Panurge's courage never fails to fail.
n crJSIS a te 1 b d d l'k '11
,onnrm:
1
1
f this verdict his fina e-tur mg rea s 1 e an 1 ustratwn
theheeso '. . b
Fast on d principle-one mvolvmg coward1ce, ro e su re, but al so a
1 some broa er
0
'b'liry robad daydreams ..
'brings us ro the Physetere. Succumbing again to the terrors of Pan,
W 'e ives his fear a name anda face: "Voy le ci. Ho, ho. Diable Sathanas,
Pan urge g f d h f 11 1 " 1
L iathan" {QL 399). De aux appen s t e o owmg g oss: ass1m1 atwn tour
. ;:it orthodoxe. Panurge est bon thologien. 11 a lu Nicolas de Lyre" (398).
:ut of course, Pan urge has by now pro ven himself an agile sophist and little
more; any sign that fate throws his way, he can and will denature to suit his
proclvities-and this nearly plausible appropriation conforms ro rype. The
tradtion of commenrary ro which Lyre belongs (and which originares with
Aquinas's Expositio in Job ad litteram) disringuishes between the hunk of
blubber and bone called "Leviarhan" and the escharological meaning ascribed
to it by God, interpreting the beast as a metaphor for the devil, not rhe devil
incarnate. A doctrinaire coward would therefore proclaim, "Behold, a ligurarive
place-holder for Satan, whom of our own devices we can never vanquish."
Confounding rhe spiritual and the worldly, Panurge instead identilies this sea
creature as that Leviarhan, and that Leviathan as rhe tiend whose malice ir
may evoke, but never (for a Christian) embody. His "carnaHry, .. moreover,
proves more heterodox than rhe alleged "literalmindedness" of rhe Jews. He
does n?t merely collapse Augustin's ladder of inrerprerarion, does nor merely
desubhmare a sacred metaphor; like Aldophus's pantheistic shipmates, he
lmbues a concrete entity with rhe rranscendence of rhe gods. The hybrid rhar
resulrs-fleshy yer demonic, erupting in the here-and-now yer billowed by rhe
great beyond-we habitually call "a monster."
Pantagruel
lt is telling, then, that Pantagruel avoids rhe word. lgnoring scriprure and
the Piatonized Ovid, he fishes his nomendature from Pline's N.Jturul HLStory.
The ro which he rhen pnxeeds seems .m tmt,growth rh.H
Word choice: here we have a demvsritieJ rh.tr desplfe rrs hetr .mJ
strangeness will yieiJ, superior re .. :hlll"'llt'; hert' W(" have nor
Lucifer, but a whak, one whalt of J.nd ' one ar rh.H. Jemoced
from uniqueness hy rhe natur.tlsr's n'en /r.('.,
of the Physetere's \'tn re en .. orC's plus
enormes, avoir Vt'Ut'n I'O..:e,m (,,tiiKI.JUt' 40 ).
ANDREW PIGOlT
Preceding cholpters anticipare rhis display. La srie d
rartle and impress, hur ir represenrs a dying world. Macro:s.

rna}
en signifie vieillart, home qui 3 des ans beaucoup"Il e Macrobe
1
an ltsmre ,
correlate (Piurarch's On t Je assaticm of oracles) Ioom Jike
3
d h rtell:tual
the order of rhings to which, alone among the travelers p eat sentence;
. ' anurge rem .
reacrin has hegun to cede to a new dtspensation--one Jess m 'fy alns
(therefore) more hospito.lhle to rhe enlightened Christian. At Ing a.nd
Pantagruel hails and hastens its arrival. His discourse on
instance, g,ently l:mt firmly resituates the monstrum: sgns, for
Ne plus ne moins. que jadis, en le.s juges Areopagites,
ballotans pour le )Ugement des cnmmelz pnsonniers, usoient de
certaines notes scelon la variet des sentences par 0 signifians
condemnation a mort : par T, absolution par A, amplification :
scavoir est, quand le cas n'estois encares liquid. Icelles,
publiquement exposes, houstoient d'esmoy et pensement les
parens, a mis et aultres, curieux d'entendre quelle seroit l'issue et
jugement des malfaicteurs detenus en prison. Ainsi par telz cometes,
comme par nots aetheres, disent les cieulx tacitement : Homes
mortelz, si de cestes herueuses ames voulez chose aulcune
apprandre, entendre, congnoistre, preveoir, touchant le bien er
milit publicque ou prive, faictez diligence de vous representer a
elles, et d'elles response avoir [ ... ] (357)
In the passage above, Pantagruel endorses the notion of "celestial signs," and
merely for the sake of argument; he seems genuinely to believe that
exst. Yer his comparisons familiarize them, denominating rhe supernatural Vla
the natural, the para normal vi a the normal. The effect, though subde,
devastating to the celestial powers rhat be: for suddenly, rhese occult
from form occupy a frame that by all rights rhey should rranscend. Did thls
rhetorical sleight not fit a broader pattern, we might simply conclude rhat
Jhunod advances the most .and persuasive version of this argument (wirhout,
f owever, whol\y endorsing 1t), whKh in the interest of economy 1 will here stare
+ !i.e. la terrel = Phys + terre = Physetere. Asrl
predude!> fi antagruel. demyst!lles.the fruits of Antiphysis, and thus at the ve bhnd
spot. Tellumon nal equauon. The ent.re argument, moreover, suffers a arural
mate, Physis male by .exped1ency) might justas weH Wlth hs . a
Physetere, oth the two strams of heredity might JUSt as well forndl;
neatly illustrate a pur.e of Narure. These erymologKal bloo
11. Apdy named b
1
vergent uf and Pantagruel.
12. Qt
345
p Y eanneret 10 Le Defi des s1gnes. (1994).
currect. anurge helpfully supplies this fannid. For n
RABELAIS AND DISENCHANTMENT
1 d
h. analogy. The conclusion of his expos, however,
1 has bung e IS .
Pallragrue ect an ulterior motive:
Judsone ro susp
P]our dedairer la rerre et gens rerrie.ns 'estre dignes la presence,
l nie et fruirion de telles InSignes ames, 1 estonnent er
compan,gtent par prodiges, porten tes, monstres, et aulrres precedens
espova . .
signes formez contre tour ordre de nature. que VCISmes pJusJCUfS
jours avanr le departement de celle tant tllustre, genereuse, et
heroique ame du docte et preux chevalier de Langey, duquel vous
avez parl. (357)
Again he rransports rhe stuff of myth to more familiar terrain, swapping
foresr sprires for historical personages. And though rhe consequences remain
eerily disproportionate, his elegy reads more like hyperbolic praise than real
cosmology.ln any case, prior stabs at the rheory will already ha ve weakened irs
metaphysical pith. When Macro be pins the Tempere on the death of a hero ("A u
d'un chascun d'iceulx, ordinairement oyons nous par la foresr grandes
er pltoyables larnentations, et voyons en terre pestes vimeres et affiictions; en
l'air troublemens et tenebres; en mer, tempeste er fo:runal" [3491), Panragruel
a biblical anecdote ostensibly ro "support," but effecrively ro undermine
hyporhesis: "Sus l'instant que sera y rrespass [said Herod ro his enrourageJ,
par les archiers de ma guarde, es quelz j'en ay expresse commission
onne, tous ces nobles et magistrarz qui sont ceans reserrez. Ainsi faisans,
toute Judee rnaulgr soy en dueil et lamentation sera, et semblera es esrrangiers

5
,
0
Yt a cause de mon trespas, comme si quelque ame Heroi'que
ee (353). Somewhere berween the fa un and the homicidal ryranr, a qutd
has occurred: we ha ve quir rhe domain of fairy raJes and enrered rhe
?mam of cruel politics, where caraclysm is wroughr by aiJ-roo-human means.
engendering like, Herod rhen begers anorher faux duimon. his
In bruraliry, Nron: .. Aurant en afecroir un desesper ryranr. qu.JOd il dist
"Moy mourant, la terre soyr avecques le feu mesle " perisse rour
le monde" (353). Both descend from Anriphysie, breeder borh ot
and of figurative monsrers-which is ro say people, nor Je\'ils. sewmg ds.:ord
through deeds rarher than magic: "Depuys elle engendra les .l\f..1t.1gorz,
Papelars [hypocrites <lllj; les Maniades Pisroletz, le,.. l)emom.h.-Je_., C.1hms,
unposteurs de Geneve and so fonhl" (393).
ANDREW PlGOIT
qui feut jadis destin pour devorer Andromeda" 1397, emph . .
Pantagruel's learned moniker ("des Physeteres, qui ne
1
ett:Sis In,nej) and
1 1 d
'b nt qu eau
les ouyes et par a gueu e, ne m vez paour aulcune avoir" (
397
Par
mine)) to creare an oxymoron: "Pantagruel de loing apperceut 'emphasis
1 d
. " un grand
monstrmux P Jysetere, venent rmct vers nous (395, emphasis m l T "
h h A h Id h me here
no synt es_1zmg t ese components. query o s t e collocation together
1ts answer wtll efface one or the other lexeme. '
The answer soon arrives. Assuaged no doubt by the captain's ca\rn h
narraror abandons his timid apposition: "Le Physetere, entrant dedan's ti e
brayes et angles des naufz et Guallions 1 ... ]" (401). Pantagruel will, of cours:s
justify rhe shifr in diction-and the vote of confidence it implies-with ;
display of dJrd-ing prowess. And so the debate is concluded. The embodimem
of evil turns out to be justa big fish. As Paul J. Smith has argued: "Le phys1re
est monstre 'selon Nature,' un animal dont les rapports avec le Diable et avec
Antiphysie som le produit des 'phantastiques visions' de Panurge" (12\).
Or, in the incisive words of Michel Jeanneret: "En dpit de son apparence
prodigieuse, le phystfre n'est qu'un vulgaire animal [. .] La nature, ici, ne
signifie rien d'autre qu'elle-mfme. Ce qui aurait pu erre un monstre ne montre
rien il n'est qu'un objet insignifiant et passif, non montrant mais montr, pris
en charge par un hros qui seul dtient le pouvoir de dsigner et de signifier"
( 1 04). That is that .
. . . Or maybe not. The point has sparked much controversy over the years,
and one can easily see why. Pantagruel's javelins trace a partero of crosses and
equilateral and these in turn imbue his feat with an air of mystery.
Mightthe Christ-like King not, after all, ha ve vanquished sorne figurarion of
the Fiend? Edwin Duval certainly thinks so, and it must be admitted that he
makes a compelling case, adducing an impressive number of parallels tD the
Book of Job. Readers of his masterful chapter will gladly concede this much:
Rabelais not only alludes to the Leviathan he reverses the salient passage
point for poim. Does God's fearsome sea splinter fishhooks and scoff
at irons? Pantagruel will pierce his quarry, again and again. Ooes
Levtathan elude the merchant's maw and banquet table; This blubbery carcass
on the of Farouche, where it proves "fort.utile et necessaire a la
guenson de certame maladie, qu'ilz nommoient Faulte d'argent" (QL 407)-
and so forrh. Consid h . . h d 1 ssed
h. b er now t at or centunes the exegettcal canon a g (
ts east as an al_legory of Satan, and the will seem irresistible:
antagruel here tnumphs over the Evil O
We should resist tempt r h ne. d mine
the al1egorical readin nonet Two conceptual Aaws un er orl
it i!. ambiguous. the evidence made to_

something Wlt IS nsque mversum of scripture, Rahda1s mc.l
we cannot doubt Th h. OlS J
good dealless clea D \' e nature o IS meaning, howcver,
r. uva s excavations cou\d perhaps identifv the Phy!oeren
. . but rhey might also serve to rule out that very possibility.
proclaims, "You cannot perform action a on object
/1 knowmg b' bl' h
/( '"
3
- d ro perform action a on an o ect resem mg x, w at am
, d procee .
x. '"
1
de-that God was misraken or that appearances can somenmes
roconcu 1 k h' Ch
. , (And would Pantagrue 's vrctory ma e rm a consummate nstian
witting blasphemer?) Second, and more seriously, our allegorical
oran un .
g/oss requires not only that w: take. Pan urge at hrs word, but that we carve
out an exception and trust hrs mstmcts. The quesnon then becomes: why
should we? This is the delusory coward who mrstakes a rat-cat for Satan,
hears demon toasts in a cannonade, and sees hellfire in a puff of smoke. Rather
rhan destroy these hallucinations te/les que/les (like an aggressive parent who
pretends to shoot the bogeyman), Panragruel peels away the panicky scales
ro revea/ a Nature demystified. In confronting the Physetere, he behaves no
dillerently. Duval himself anticipares this objection, and responds by doubling
down: "So much space is allotted to Panurge's prolix babbling [ ... ) and the
references contained in it are so precise, so consistent, and so germane ro rhe
entire episode, that we are simply not at liberty ro dismiss these pages out
of hand without considering what rhey contribute ro rhe meaning of rhis
crucial episode at the center" ( 129). The srrident tone hides an admission of
weakness: when all else fails, affirm what remains ro be seen. Panurge does
babble _wirh_ prolixity; but then, his verbal histrionics enliven the en tire voyage.
What, m th1s particular instance, endows them wirh the penetraran that as a
general rule they lack? And yes, his references are indeed prt"Cise; ir does nor
fo.llow, however, that they are correspondingly accurare. To fort"Close dehare
WJth the assertion "We are simply notar liberty (. .j .. is ro disguise one's
hypothesis as brute fact. In the absence of a more sarisfying defense. R1golor's
seems the only possible one: "JI me semble don'" contr<ure.a la
reabre texruelle de prerer a Rabelais une intention essentidlemenr .a/Jegonque
dans l.'pisode du physerere. C'est Panurge qui entle, pour s.J x-rre. !t: doul:tle
paradJgme ovidien er biblique; mais il estdair qu'il se trompe./../ Commt:nr
le lecreur pourrair-il choisir Panurge pour guide--Panurge. le '"ou . .ud er le
sophiste?" (22).
ANDREW PIGorr
allegorize, when viewed in this light, appears wholly natural d
wrongheaded than 1 made out above; for its adepts do proves less
the text (though they err in attributing it a legitimacy that th a tendency in
l
. 'hd h . etexrden
lt 5 as if Rabe a1s w1s e to t e tllusions he found hi les.
shattering-as if he yearned for the spmtual dtmension ro which h'
1
tnself
. d b' 1 13Th'
access. He seems, m a , wa ent. IS term may smack of lit-crit
jargon, but really, ambtvalence ts a emotion. We need not
invoke High Theory to grasp the followmg pomt: Rabelais feels misgivings
about the te/os of dtsenchantment that Le Quart Lwre chronicles, and that
his hero pursues.
These misgivings manifest as textual ambiguity.
14
To take one prorninem
example: after relating the death of Pan (in a passage lifted, significantly,
frorn On the cessation of oracles), Pantagruel adds an emendation:
"U le le interpreteroys de celluy grand Servateur des fideles, qui feur en
Jude ignominieusemenr occis par l'envie et l'iniquit des Pontifes, docteurs,
prebstres et moines de la Mosaicque" (365). The gloss carries a performative
thrust. How better to seal the fate of Pan than to strike his very death (and
by exrension his life) from the record, replacing it with the Passion of Christ?
Pantagruel he re observes the passing of an old dispensation and speeds it along
its way . accompanied by a few large tears: "Pantagruel, ce propous finy,
resta en silence et profonde contemplation. Peu de temps apres, nous veismes
les !armes decouller de ses oeilz grosses comme oeufz de Austruche" (367).
But the question now imposes itself: for whom are these tears shed? And who,
for that maner, does the shedding? Surely, Pantagruel mourns rhe crucifixion
of God's sacrificial Lamb. Yet who can say that Rabelais does not divert one
of his tears from its course, offering it up to rhe "Panes et Sylvains" who
inhabited the forest but do so no longer? Christ, after all, will rise and Slt at
13

1
shou\d here pay homage ro Samuel Junod. His learned expos p\umbs rhe ma.nr
resonances-allegorical, interrextual, medica\, linguistic . .-rhar mark Le Physerere
as a monstrou!. distortion. Yet he also avers of chapter 33: "[CJe passage esr u.n peu
une exception dans le Quart Livre, tanr donn que le prtendu monsrre n'a
monstrueux" ( 174). These glo\se!. float diffused in playful
preclpitating only when the reader's bias givcs one or rhe other a prod. Though,

1
side with the so-callt=d "naturali!.ts"; and rhough, unlike me, Junod las
1
e
this textual poly!.emism a!. ot_her rh_an_
glstenallecture5 do map Rahelais's amh1valence wh1ch res1sts,l
weakly, r_he dymg of the night '

Agam,
1
reali:t.e that the. word an unfortunate hisrory, hut thl'>
as g_rown m
1
_>re controversia\ than it ever \hould have. Complex
11
are rather common in what we ca\l"hreraturl'"; rh1'> ,. 1111t' t;u"IPI
IMIOil,Uishes the antst frnm the pamphleteer.
RABELAIS AND DISENCHANTMENT
20j
. h h d whereas Pan, evicted from his once vast doma in, must
her'srJg t an '
rhefar d
1
sions of a foollike Panurge.
haunrrhe

offer reasons enough to regret his exile. The rsum of

Chaprers srre des arts" unspools like a Rousseauist fever dream: lirst,
Gasrre, mar h b d d 1
. agriculture and all the arts t at su ten Jt-me Jeme, astro ogy,
he the harnessing of the elements; next, to protect his bounty of

rhe art of war-with its organized forces, its walled cities, its
gram, . .
carapults, and finally rts exploSJves:
[IJI avoit invent recentement Canons, Serpentines, Coulevrines,
Bombardes, Basilics, jectans boulletz de fer, de plomb, de bronze,
pezans plus que grosses enclumes, moyennant une composition
de pouldre horrilicque, de laquelle Nature mesmes s'est esbahie,
er s'esr confesse vaincue par art [. .] Car plus est horrible,
plus espouvantable, plus diabolique, et plus de gens meurtrist,
casse, rompt et tue: plus estonne les sens des humains; plus de
muraille demolist un coup de Basilic, que ne feroient cent coups
defouldre. (581)
What's this complex of farms and armies requires the oversight of a
tyrant; rts creator gladly fills the role (and thereby fills bis belly): "]e vous
certlfie que a u mandement de messere Gaster tour le cid rremble, toute la
terre bransle. Son mandement est nomm: faite le fault sans delay ou mourir"
(
549
). And so from a promising start we arrive ata frightful end. Duvaf righrly
deems this island, blessed and cursed by an ingenious muse, the bfeakest
of all. In his explanatory note, Defaux Aarly declares: .. Gaster
un demon'" (580). Indeed he is-and rhe scare-quores do not hJs
menace; in fact, they accenruare ir. For Gaster waxes diaholu:al m so far as he
embodies the death of demon-kind. How so? His schemmg hds
3
through-the-looking-glass rype of reversa!, where up is down .Jnd good
1
_
5

and the dockwork world is a den of dark mdgic llntertered b" Tt>rrl/lc_us,
rhe rational mind does rhe devil one herrer, ..1 ot
at which rhe malicious spirits onl\' g.lpc' m The world. meanwhJJJe,
becomes identical ro irself, and so inro some-rhmg othN: J ho us
to manipulare and . BesJttetd
hack, d1s1.:over a prt"'--edent tor dJ.rt" ... Jikt' an
'?(,aster\ G.tI .. t'S


rolls ovt>r a111.i tro; ( :nrO<".aulx. lrs lt's
t;nuaulx d app_rt'nt ;us Jc: ,
1
poc.-rriJC"'l, t't leun
1 l-.srournl"dU'Ir(,_ll l.r,r!'
1
L pn. 1wt"s..o. may
lf:lfl'llt humoun proterer, potrler, h (. ti,r
'it"l'lll hc:yonJ hut ,,:hlpttr \4 hlrotld!o IS pre u
ANDREW PIGOTI
also hends nature to his makin.g of its .stouresr creations
"ILI< cnrps Ju Physerere semhlmt a b qurlle d un guall10n a troys gabie."
emmortaise par competente de poultres, si feussen;
et portehaushancs de la carme. Et estmt chose moult pla1sanre a veoir
Adoncques mourant, P.hysetere, se renversa ventre sus dours, comme
tous poisons mors: et ams1 renverse, les poultres contre. has en mer, ressembloir
au Scolopendre ... (" (405). The rapprochement, 1 realrze, is bound ro provoke
.::ries of protest; it should not surprise us for all that. Gaster extrapolares the
Pantagruelian ethos past its original intent; he is the hero's negative image, the
corruption of his worthy aims. The two diverge radically in practice because
the one, a beneficent and Christ-like king, needs a giant's frame to hold rhe
of his heart, while the other, a bloody tyrant, acts solely out of greed
("Et tour pour la tripe!"). But the dialectic of Enlightenment is a force both
powerful and blind, and its fruirs (or ravages ... ) may vary. lt can free us from
the terrors of rhe night, or ir can enslave the masters who unleash it.
Unfortunately, modern times ha ve seen precious few Pantagruels. Gasters,
on the other hand, ha ve prospered and multiplied. The malign genie's offspring,
in fact, ha ve defiled like a victory para de clown the boulevards of History. This
may explain why contemporary readers-to the chagrin of most specialists-
recoil from the violence of the Physetere episode: they see where this is leading.
1t is leading to judge Holden, that cowboy "maistre es arts," whose worldview
smacks of Gastroltrie: "\OJnly when the existence of each last entity is routed
out and made to stand naked befo re (man) will he be properly suzerain of the
earth \. .\ The freedom of birds is an insult ro me. I'd ha ve them all in zoos"
(McCarthy, 198-99). The alleged "anachronism" of their unease registers a
potentiality embedded by the author himself one that the intervening years
have served to clarify and distill. '
Le Quart does indeed remain pertinent to our da y and age.lt's enough
to mkake miss the nightmares of old. They at least dispelled when we
awo e. '
Austin Co/lege
Worlu Cited
Adorno, Theodor, and Max Ho kh . . . t
Trans. Edmund ]e h r elmer. The D,aJectic of Enilghtemnen
Benjamin, Walter. Stanford ll.P. 2002.
New York B
5
k_ .s\s;ys and Reflectums. Trans. Harry Zohn
Deguy, Michel. Tornbeau ll 6H, . . .
Dempsey, lnventing the . . Pans: Callimard, 1975.
North Carolma P, 2001. enausance Putto. Chape\ Hill: The U ol
RABELAIS AND DtSENCHANTMENT
d
. The Design of Rabelais's Quart Livre de Pantagruel. Geneva:
vuval, E wm998
Colloquorium Desiderii Eras mi Roterodami familiarium
Erasmus, F d 1 B'b'l 7
pus aureum. London: Gw . reeman a ns1gne 1 1 orum, 1 11.
:ret, Michel. Rabelais et le dfi des signes. Orlans: Paradigme, 1994.
Samuel. "Lectures du Physetere." tudes Rabelaisiennes 35 (1998):
161-74.
Lavocat, Fran<;oise. La Syrinx au bcher: Pan et les satyres a la Renaissance
et /'ge baroque. Geneva: Droz, 2005.
Lestringant, Frank. crire le monde a la Renaissance. Caen: Paradigme, 1993.
McCarthy, Cormac. Blood Meridian. New York: Vintage, 1992.
Panolsky, Erwin. The Iconography of Correggio's Camera di San Paolo.
London: Warburg Institute, 1961.
Rabelais, Fran;ois. Le Quart Livre de Pantagruel. Ed. Grard Defaux. Pars:
Librairie Gnerale Fran;aise, 1994.
--. Oeuvres completes de Rabelais. Ed. Huchon and Moreau. Paris:
Gallimard, 1994.
Rigolot, "La Sant des monstres: Terawlogy et thrapeutique dans le
Quart Livre de Rabelais." tudes Rabelaisiennes. 39 (2001 ): 7-22. Prinr.
Roscher, Wilhelm Heinrich. Pan and the Nightmare. Trans. James Hil/man.
S . Woodstock, Conn.: Sprin, 2000.
muh, Paul J. Voyage et criture: tude sur le Quart Livre de Rabelais. Geneva:
Droz, 1987.
tJeil KennY
DISINTERRING AND REINTERRING THE DEAD:
TENSE IN FRENCH GRAMMARS, DU VAIR, AND
PASQUIER (c. 1550-1610)
R
elarions between the living and the dead are negotiated through various
caregories of discourse, including tense. This article focuses on one
particular phase-rhe French Renaissance-of the long history of the roles rhar
tenses ha ve played, and conrinue to play, in negotiating those relations. Firsr
a hisrorical and linguistic framework for studying the quesrion is skerched;
three case srudies then follow.
Whereas rhe use of tenses ro artribute different kinds of presence or absence
ro the dead is obviously nor specific ro the Renaissance, ir did rake particular! y
intensive forros in the Renaissance beca use the Renaissance-understood nor
as a period but as a cultural movement grounded in humanism----centered on
the notion rhar one should disenrangle rhose elemenrs of rhe pasr (wherher
ancJent or medieval) rhar might have "life" in rhe presenr from rhose rhar
rema m "dead." 1
On the other hand, if Renaissance humanism is viewed in rhe broader
contexr of its period, then ir can be seen as having shared both wirh nonlearned
culture and with the Middle Ages conceprions of dearh thar differ ro sorne
from those dominant in rhe modern Wesr. Those conceprions invoJved
beiief that physical death, despite provoking grief, is nor .m
taken together, the process of dying and its immediare .Jtrermarh
constltute a transitional phase. Cerrainly, rhere is evidence rhar dearh was more
A_bbreviations used: IMP = lmparfait; PC = PR =
1 am grateful ro the Leverhulml' Tru!>t tor rhe ot .t Rc-
hllowship that en.tbleJ this artu.le ro ht' resean.:hc.J .mJ wnHt'n, rn.J,m.uh.Jn
for a!osistanl.:e inus prcpar.nion, to Ph1hppe C.uon tor .J, h.:e, .1nd fll \dnous ..
for helptul uunments on ("lter.Iture, lde.tl>
Warburg lnstitute; "F.uly r..-1udern l-lum.uusm .uuf th(" Hununutc"!o
nf

.. on; anJ F.trh MoJrrn .Wmm.1r .-ur

"E.nly Modc.-rn horh .n rhe lhu\er..lf\' ,.r

tlt
1- For a statc.-ment of th1s v1ew rh.H '" 111 the P
1
llll!tdtl(m,'iee(;retne.
NEIL KENNY
often experienced as a from the sixteenth century
0
l:mt e\'en then, death contmued to be m sorne respe'-ts not sirnply a nward,l
moment, and not rhe absolute end of a person, but a progressivel d
remporarv state into which the person moves: "Un 'mort' esr do y evelopulg1
dont les ceux parties constitutives sont momentanment

homme
1 . d'
The sixteenth century _was a s_o a peno m wh!ch postmortem possibilities
multiplied in controverstal The mam factors were Renaissance
humanism and the Humamsm relaunched, withour necessarily
proposing, numerous and Roman of rhe afterlife,
including sorne {such as remcarnat10n) that emphas1zed continuity berw
life and death even more than Christianity did. And hurnanists imitated
Romans' obsession with secular posthumous renown as being one kind of
immortalitv.
thinking assumed the reality of posthumous spiritual
survival just as much as Catholicism did. Indeed, much continued ro unite
the confessions in this area: only in the eighteenth century did considerable
secularization of death begin.
4
But Protestantism radically revised sorne
rraditional Catholic notions of what happens after death (notably Purgatory)
as well as inrroducing greater discontinuity into the relationship between the
living and the dead. Catholicism's routine commerce of various sorts between
the living and the dead, such as prayers of intercession to help basten the dead
to heaven, was gene rally condemned by Protestantism.
5
My hypothesis is that in this climate, which combined powerful belief
in posthumous survival with controversy as to its mode, tenses airen
communicated a sense of the dead's presence or absence that was conceptually
or indeterminate and not translatable into precise proposicional
Thts partly preconceptual use of tenses was not necessarily always consctous
00
the part of the speaker or writer. One historical specificity of the period:s
tenseuse when compared with today's is that for the formally educated tt
was in explicit grammatical rraining (in Latin). While that training
was pnmanly concerned with correct tenseuse humanist education also
seems to ha ve invol d h' ' d f hat
h ve teac mg expressllle tenseuse that departe rom w
w:s t .e most correct choice. Sorne of this teaching carne under
r ttonc, to pupils progressed in the later stages of school educarion
a ter mastermg grammar.t. Ahhough in many ancient and early modern
2. See Aries 46-47
3
Blum 781; "So .a 'dead person' . boJ\
and have been temp .
1
s someone whose two constituuve parts [
4. See Chaunu. oran y separated."
5. T_he scholar\y literature on th .
Davs; Marshall. ese questlons is vast. See, for cxamp\e,
6. On the relation of grammar
1
h . l
Rhetoru;" 326-30. o r ttonc, see Mack 5-7; Percival. "(;rammar ,llll
H GRAMMARS, Du VAIR AND PASQUIER
TENSE IN fRENC
. mention of tenses is either absent or ;o a statement
herorJc rexts, f grammatical correctness m tense chotee, an Important
r h mporance o . . 11 . b k 9 h
of t e .
1
is Quintilian 's Jnstitutio ora torta, y"a oo t at
temporum or metastasiS. (9.2.41)-
of rhe figures rhat produces the sense of VISual ImmedJacy he calls
":;entia, when, for example, a tense IS used for a past actwn. But
:, ressive use of tenses was also d1scussed as part of advanced grammar. The
replacement of one _rense by another, whether for purposes of evidentia/
,,rgeia (vividness) or energeta (expresSJve vigor) or copea (abundance), was
discussed as one species of the umbrella figure of construction called enallag
or hererosis (substitution of one part of speech for another) by texts that were
hugely influential in France and elsewhere-Erasmus 's rhetoric manual De
copia /1512) and Thomas Linacre's advanced grammar De emendata structura
latini sermonis ( 1524 )
8
-while a grammatical work even more influential than
Linacre's, Lorenzo Valla 's Elegantiae (lirst version 1441 ), also discussed rense-
substitution, withour giving ir a rhetoricallabel ("rempus [ ... j pro rempore,"
one tense for another).9
So there was a spectrum in tense-use, ranging from fundamenraJ reflexes
drummed in through early education ro expressive variarions rhat were more
self-conscious on the whole.
Whereas modern Jinguisrics uses expressions like "paradigms" or "rense-
aspecr forms" ro designa te rhe ancienr Greek Aristos, the Latin Perfecwm,
Pass Simple, and so on, I use instead the ordinary-language term
tenses. Admittedly, "tense"loses rhe sense of"time," unlike tempus and temps
/although early modero English "tens" already did so, roo). But an advamage
for my purposes is that "tense," as well as referring dearly ro specitic modern
verbal forms, is also closer rhan is the terminologv of modern linguisrics ro rhe
terms that were used in the ancient and early grammaricoll nadirion.
Whereas the aim of modern Iinguistics is largely descripti\'e, and alrhough
some_rheoretical rarher rhan pedagogical rreatises on grammar d1d emerge
espectally in the sixreenth century, rhe aim of rhe grammars 1 will cons1der

to teach Latin-and la ter French (ro foreigners. for example)-and t<l provJde
a language, alongside rhar of rheroric, for rhe of rexrs. So
the grammars neirher describe nor .tnalyze us.1ge mdJ,:are
ways in which writers and readers were traine.J ro , . of renS<"-forms.
The two grammarians nf late antiquiry whose Jominared rhe
medieval and Renaissance te;:u.:hing of 1 ,ttin-Don.ttus PrSl."J.UI-mappc:-d
7. F.K., l), oroJtort' 111.40 .md J!rtlllnru.s \'1.
H. 71; lJt' t'ffft'NIJtJ s/rNt'/NrJ 401-b. Set' lmoh:re.
Rudmunt,l MI. l)n t'noJII,I):f' dll\1 llll ht)lo )tr.unmdrs' Jtsse-nun .. non. 3oC"t"
Lulumh.u, 1 t'.S 1-txurt's 1 W-Hl.lOI-l; (.;rt"'l'll
Vallo! 110.
NEIL KENNY
Latin tenses onto ro. a considerable exten.r.
10
There was, how
ahernative way of thmkmg about lt m volved shifting th:ver,_ an
focus row_ard rhe completedness or that tenses
ro rhe acuon, event, or state-such as bemg ah ve-to which th !hure
d f h. k. 1 k b ey refer O
rhe face of 1t, thts km o t m mg oo s more a le than rhe g : n
stock tripartite conception of time (past, present, future) to
which tenses might grant the dead sorne kinds of survival, by makinge
10
'"not completed," even after death. However, 1 will argue that actu le ead
. a usage
outstripped not only conceptual rhou?ht based on time, but also conceptual
rhought based on completedness and mcompletedness.
In modern linguistics, "aspect" is the label for the dirnension of meanin
that this a\ternative approach clairns to identify. Having been imponed fro!
Slavic \inguistics into the Western grammatical tradition in the nineteemh
centurv, ''aspect" has been understood in various contested ways.ll However
l use rhis modern term and concept sparingly, because ir did not inform earl;
modern authors' understanding of their own use of tenseforms. What did
inform that understanding was the distinction berween whar is completed
(perfectum\ and what is incomplete (imperfectum). This distinction berween
"perfective" and "imperfective" meaning, fundamental to ancient and early
modern grammarians and used by Priscian ro distinguish between verbal
ternpora,
12
had even deposed time as rhe key classificatory principie of rhe
Latin verb system in the firstcemury BCE grammar of the Roman Varro
(!X.%-97, X.47-48).
13
He seems to have irnported the approach from Greek
Stoic. grammarians. But although Varro's thought had sorne fresh impact in
the SJxteenth century, in general Vareo still had far less influence than Dona rus
and
and perfectiviry/imperfectivity were the lenses through
whJ.ch grammanans described sixteenthcenrury Middle French as well as
Latm Like other Romance languages, French had developed rwo tenses
(Passe Smlple fis and Pass Compos j'ai fait) in lieu of a single Latin one
fect). ln comparison with the Perfectum which could ha ve eirher
pretente or perfecta\ meaning (roughly either "1 maJe" or "1 ha ve made"), rhe
lO. Donatu!>, Ars mm()r 1-
36
. . sternJ
and Ars rnJwr 637 \= Kcil
3
!l4J Jlr.- . O m thc standard H. Keil sy afiO
in the rhe a.nd teachmg of ;.val,
C.rammar"; Id., Studtes mbat, La Grammmre latme 67-!:U; Per
11. Sce Bmnu..k llart 2; Comnt: .
l2. l'nM.an VIII.IUK-10 SS .
13. \ee l'.mmck 20-26
14. !)ee Cnlomhat, /.a. Grammare 1 .
Rcyno\d, (cd.)431l-H. atme 44;
TENSE IN FREN
eH GRAMMARS, Du VArR AND PASQUIER 213
f b
ecame more strongly, though still not exclusive/y,
, rhere ore f
p ss Compase f t meaning This pushed early modern grammanans o
'' d with per ec a . fL . h .
1ssociare more than grammarians o atm on t e semant1c category
. h focuseven . k' d f
Frene
10
1
. istics calls perfect. Perfecta! meanmg expresses sorne m o
h
modern mgu "! h d ") d h d
r ' he past upon the present ( ave ma e an yet as remame
impmg'"-1 r;sistant to definition even today.
15
Ir is no coincidence that the

death occasionally surfaced among the grammarians' illustrative
quesllon h 1 f 'b d k' d f
examples ol perfecta/ meaning, smce t e atter o ten attrl ute sorne m o
survival to the dead.
In roday's standard French, the bifurcation of the Perfectum into the Pass
Srmple and Pass Compas has largely been reversed. The Pass Compas,
having long had both perfecta/ and preterite (aorist) functions, has expanded
irs prererite functions so much and encroached so extensively on rhe terrirory
ofrhe Pass Simple that it is not unusual ro hear premature reports of rhe Pass
Simple's demise, even if both tenses continue ro coexisr, especially in sorne
kmds of relatively formal written discourse.
16
It was arguably from about
che late fifteenth century that there began the process (still under way toda y)
ofextending the referencial scope of the Pass Compas ro indude pasr events
rhat are cut off from rhe present. 17
in the sixteenth century, the Pass Compos was stilJ mainly
m meaning
18
although ir had usurped in sorne contexts the Pass
. lmple's preterite function. If the two tenses were on occasion vircually
in most contexts rhey conrinued ro forge very differenr
;e between past and

separaring rhem in rhe case of rhe

Stmple, connecring or merging rhem in the case of rhe Pass Compas.
th
15
distincrion berween rhe rwo tenses was rherefore far srronger
/n lt
15
in French toda y. The "aoristic drih" whereby rhe Compound _Pase
0
h Romance and orher languages rakes over che aorisr funcrion trom
t Simple Pasr
20
had not progressed very far by 1600 in compdrison wirh
at happened subsequenrly. The drifr's progress was
or example, in personal correspondence ir was especial/y in rhe etghreenrh
cenrury that the Pass Compos displaced rhe Pass Simple as rhe detaulr
narrating events . .!l The fea tu res of rhe Pass Stmple
t at ffighr strike French speakers of roda y as srrange induJe Jts widespn:ad
1 l\mnick 'JH-104; 'o,m.l.
16. St't' H.uris 'iH-h4, h/:1-h'J; Mtillet; Weinn<.:
17. l-lt'l\thman 4H; M.1rt1n .NH.
lit Wdrntr 17t..
1 'J. "t't' N. 1--ounutT 1 H .md 41 \-lb; M.artm 383-9S; Wdmc-r 1--\-3.!
!O. l>.1hl ll'J; .mJ lkrruwrro 40.1--4. Sp.uush l!r- .111 exLepnon.
l1. ( . lroll a11,11,.,
NEIL KENNY
denotation of recentas well as events, its use in the first and se
as well as rhe person, and tts use m speech as well as writing; as

Pass Compase, tt was used le.ss frequently than. toda y as a pure preterite the
modern French are to overlook tts meanings and
misread rhem as pretente. The Mtddle French Passe Compas 5 in som
closer to the modero English Perfect ("1 have made") than to the ewdays
mo ern
French Pass Compas.
But how were these tenses perceived? Early grammars of French expressed
an awareness that the French tense system offered more grammaticalized
possibilities than did Latin for nuancing the relation between past and present
including between the dead and the living. And they tried to articulare
possibilities by distinguishing sharply between the Pass Compas and the
Pass Simple.
The initial impetus within grammars of French, when the genre emerged in
the early sixteenth century,
22
was not to describe the vernacular's max:irnal
possibilities of expression; ir was to prescribe usage deemed consonant wirh
Latin, relegating the rest ro the status of idiosyncrasies and irregularities.
23
ln
the tense system, the problem was that, like other Romance languages, French
had long developed various compound and supercompound forros that went
beyond Latin's five tenses.
24
The periphrastic Pass Compas was just one
of rhese, but it was perhaps the most awkward beca use its main meaning
{perfecta\) was the one that rhe Latin grammar tradition had had particular
difficuhy coping with (in the Perfectum). The early French grammars still
often sought to give French, like Latin, only rhree past tenses, by squeezing
the .. ass Compas and Pass Simple, making rhem two
deux sortes ) of a single tense that Robert Estienne called the "Prerent
00 the modd of the Latn
. Sl_xtee_mh- and seventeenth-century grammars of French did, however,
bt:twten the two tenses by attributing to rhem different
S_ome gra_mmars distinguished between the Pass Simple and the Passe
to the time in which they loca red an event. Sorne
C . a_sse hlmp e tended to loca te events in the remote past and rhe
ompo!ot: m t e rtcent past \< l . '6 B ( 10
actual Middle hen h lr e se m the recent or remote past). u h
e the choice hetween the Pass Compos and [ e
22. <.oyen!> and S7-7l r rs
!>AY ahout tht:

and l'av. a of wh.at !>mne of thes_e

pp. Kil-I. pose, tht: eduor\. introducuon 111 p
H. l'J-22.
24. \c:c Bmm..:k ..:hap. 2.
H. R. hucnnc 65.
26. 1.. ,;., '::11; Duhot!o 1.5b-S7. "\ \7_\u
F
ENCH GRAMMARS, Du VAIR AND PAsqurER 2r 5
TENSE IN R
.
1
not in fact governed by this distinction." By proposing
passi SrmP e wassought to fit this awkward tense duo into the mold of
, . .
''' gra
1
time. Had rheir distrnctron corresponded to usage, one would
chrono for example, to see the Pass Simple used proportionally more
havexptoe rhe dead and the Pass Compos proportionally more to the living.
.
\l will see rhat the choice between them tended rnstead to be governed by the
de;ree 0 { presence to a person. ro w?om the writer referred, regardJess
ofrhar person's posltlon m chronologJCal time.
from the mid-sixreenth century sorne grammarians tried ro distinguish even
more precise! y berween the temporal reference they deemed proper ro the two
censes, culminating in Henri Estienne's formularion of the famous "twenty-four
hours rule," which stipulated that the Pass Compas should be used when
referring to events that took place on the same da y as the urterance whereas
the Pass Simple should be used when referring ro events rhar rook place befare
rhat day.
28
Again, alrhough this rule had currency among grammarians uncil che
eighteenrh century, ir did not correspond on the whole ro sevenreench-cenrury
usage, and even in grammars ir was undermined from che mid-sevenceench
century onward by rhe extension of rhe Pass Compos's referencial scope.:!"
These prescriptive efforts to fit rhe Pass Compos and che Pass Simple inro
the mold of chronological rime-by discinguishing berween che near and remoce
past else between "toda y" and "before-today"-perhaps arose nonerhdess
asan mtuirive response ro rhe way in which, in actual usage, che Pass Compas
made rhe event to which ir referred seem doser ro rhe speaker rhan did che
Simple. In a flash of insighr rhar ro my knowled_ge was raken up onl.-..
Y one grammarian, in 1558 rhe ex-DommJcan Proresranr
}ean Garmer informed his intended audience of German-speaking le.Jrners ot
French that the Pass Compas should be used "when we speak of rhose rhings
happened in rhe past in such a war rhar rhey appear ro be presenr.,
(. quando de hisce rebus loquimur, quae sic praererirae sunr, ur praesenres esse
VJdeanrur")_Ju In conrrasr, rhe Pass Simple should be used when we spe.Jk
of those things which happened 11 rhe pasr 11 sUlh a rhar
abour r_hem seems ro ("4uando de

SIC praerenra lsid sunr, ur mh1l omnmo praesens esse J.
lflsighr pt'rhaps approximared more ro rhan J1J rules hasc:-J
27. Wilm_cr _2!17, . .
1
,_ "'-40. Ou rhc- rule l.
.. mduJlfl!l tm Lt
C:,d); Wilnwl 27'11-XO.
2'1. LK.,l:Juillr '117.
JO. (;.Hnitr 4H. . . . r
111
rht f:iNI, !U<>II <11

ltl >Jl,r.. ,hrr n.l.

on reference to chronological time. The claim Garnier makes h
interpreted as a relativistic one that might seem self-explanato ere cou[d he
ears: "Sorne tenses make past things seem more present.'' But his rnodern
r 1 . "S h. . ' ngsee
ro suggest a stronger, rea 1St (,; a1m. ome t mgs mtrinsicall
0
rns
kind that seem present, and correct tense-ch01ce reflects th1s propert l f_ a
without, however, creating it." In other words, as was mostly _thelrs
period, things (res) are prior to words (verba). The implication of e tn_th,e
h h " h' " f d d d 1
modcl 5 that w en t e t mgs re erre. to are ea peop e, sorne might be
dead in a way that seern stlll prese_nr,_ and th1s can be expressed
by the Pass Compase as d1stmct from the Passe Stmple. Another implicatio
is that, if there resides in cena in past things an intrinsic property of "seemin n
present," then they are apt to lodge as a mental impression in our
and memory,
12
and they possess in themselves a luminous property that can be
mediated (though not created) by the period's widespread rhetorical strategies
for making past things or people present, whether to the audience's eyes
(enrgeia, el'identia)" or ears (prosopopoieia).
34
Garnier's phrasing therefore
suggests that the Pass Compas has affinity with the faculty of imaginaran
and with these rhetorical strategies: it can help make sorne past things seem
present, but on\y if those things possess in themselves a property of present
seeming. Whereas in the rhetorical tradition the salient tense in the production
of enrgeia is that narrative present defined by Quintilian as the figura! use
of a present tense in place of a past one, in this grammatical perspective the
Pass Compas, too, can help a past thing or person appear present. Garnier
virtua\ly suggests that the Pass Compos 5 instrinsically figura! (in the sens:

temporum eMI/ag), that it is a deviation from the plain preterite (Passe

Simple). the past thing really is present or whether its appearance
of IS \lusory is left open by Garnier. As in period debates ab_out
appant10m. or the Eucharist, apparent presence mayor may not be misleadmg.
A of thinking in the period about the relation between. rhe
Pas'.>e Compase and the Pass Simple other than through chronological nme
becamr: "_lOre mainstream in grammars of French (and has more
echoes m modero hnguistics). lt emerged as grammarians gradually claimed
to describe the native featurr:s of French rather than impose
upon lt a Latm-based structure.H This second way did take chronological
rs srarting point, but not in arder to measure
rime
1
11
ce rhat separares the from the or person to whrch
rh< drsra
1
d rhis approach m volved ascerrammg whether or not the
ir refers .. or herseJf in the same "part of time" as the event or
ro. The assumption was thus thar speech divides past time
persodnfferenr "parrs" (sometimes jusr called "times"). Whether those parts are
'"
10
' f h h h h k
brief or long is less s1gmficant or tense-e OJee t an w et er or not spea ers
/ocate rhemselves within the same "part of time" as the event ro which they
refer.lf rhey do, then the Pass Compas should be used; if they do not, rhen
rhe Pass Simple.
This approach assumed on the face of ir that it is possible ro disringuish
herween an event or acrion and, on the other hand, the "rjme" or ''parr of
rime" in which ir is represented as occurring. The distinction was crucial ro
grammarians' continued attempts ro maintain the traditionai understanding
of perfecta! meaning ("1 ha ve made") as being perfective. In this view, rhe
Pass Compas represents an action as one-off and completed ("une action
un coup accomplie")
1
" justas muchas rhe Pass Simple; whar distinguishes
the Pass Compas is the unbroken continuity of a "part of time" from rhe
action to the utterance that refers ro that acrion. Whether or not the "parr
of time" is adverbially specified, no endpoinr is assigned ro it, sim:e it is sriH
under way at the moment of utterance. Here is one grammarian on insrances
of the Pass Compas:
Aussi vinent ils en service lors que nous signifions bien une c:hose
passee, mais nous ne nommons point le remps quand: ou si nous le
nommons, il esr encor en flux & en reste quelque porrion qui n 'est
pas encor passee ni enrirement definie.r
This adumbrarion of rhe "parrs of rime" rheory comes frnm a 1 grammar
by Charles Maupas rhar was groundbreaking in irs attempr w descnbc
usage rarher rhan prescribe Larin-orienred rules.
111
E ven if Maupas
locked into the larin grammarians' associarion of rhe perfecr wirh
36. Maupas 293. . -s ..:ert.Jinh rn rhc.
37._ Maupas 293-95; "Wl' ;llso_use_ them to

Ju rlw
but wtthour ;ln tndtr.:;ltton whc:n 11 happc-neJ. h .. :re sriJI
time_ whl'n happc:ned. rhc:n th;lt tllllt" ts tlowu_
1
g, dctinire. Chttler 1 Yto)
P_ortwn of rhar h.n not yc:t P
1
'"''"J
01
.
1
.. but wrhour meununml(
Slmtl.lrly tn a "mcsnu fl"mps, qUI cst etu:urc en ,our
thl' adion ir .. ontatn!>.
lH. Stl" Rio:k.uJ Yt.-97: Stoutti l4.l7.
NEIL KENNY
he was upbeat about French having more tenses than Latinl9 and
the \ookout for the additional expressive possibilities they offered
50
Was on
However, the distincri.on the situation action or and
rhe "pan of time" in whtch ts .. as occurnng becomes especia\1
tenuous when rhat "part of time IS a llfe. Maupas argues that the
Pass Compas should be used
quand nous limitaos quelque chose par les parties de nostre aage.
En ma ;eunesse. Durant mon enfance. Moy estant aag de vingt ans.
}'ay fait, ]'ay dit, ]'ay escrit IPC]. Toutesfois un homme d'aage qui
feroit un discours de sa vie par ses periodes, pourroit legamment
se servir du defini 1= PS] pour mieux insinuer l'antiquit de ses
ans.
40
This recommendation of the Pass Compas to refer to what one did in
one's youth certainly does not correspond to all period usage and seems ro
contradicr Maupas's own principie that rhis tense should be reserved for cases
where the sarne "part of time" spans acrion and moment of utterance. Yet
the comradiction disappears if the actions of one's youth are understood as
belonging at a deeper leve\ to the still-continuing, broader action/"part of
time" of living. This rnakes it impossible ro characterize the Pass Compos's
meaning here as either perfective or imperfective. Alrhough the actions of
one's youth are represented on one leve\ as complete, rhe reason why they
are not referred to with a straightforward preterite is that on another leve\
they part of that incomplete action/"part of time" of living. To adopt the
of pragmatics, the implicature of the Pass Compas here is "l
am stil\ hving."
. ln Maupas's of tenses, the Pass Simple ought ro be impossibl_e
10
the first 10 thls context, since it would imply "1 am dead"; but t
hs man in a striking, "marked" way ro imply "1 arn
IS as , _1 arn This _Pass Simple opens up an impossible
fs sornehow on s own \fe. The e\derly man's tense
.. pan of or biographers will-outsth:
usua\ly even ffi()fe irnplicit Thts
15
an vivid example of d
boundaries between life andw:ys tense-choice erected or dismant e
eat . enses constant\y made insinuarions about
MaupM
40. 2%; we delimit somethin . . !n
my youth, 10 my chldhuod, at the age uf twen; _u tht! parts our hfe., r
an down his life into lh y. :id1d, sa1d, 1 wrote' II'C\.
lt"nr.e 1= 1 1mp\y h1!> advanced vear .. pe ods C()u\d e\egamly use the definl
TENSE IN fRENCH GRAMMARS, Du VAIR AND PASQUIER zr9
g relations to it even in texts that contained nothing exp/icit
death, consrructlfl
aboUl ir.
The three texts through which 1 explore such tense-based boundaries are
br nvo conremporaries, GuHiaume du Va ir and tienne Pasquier, from noble

bourgeois families, respectively, but each a Gallican magistrate within

rhe same parlementaire milieu. Whar kinds of re!ation between the living
and rhe dead are fostered by rhese writers' uses of tense-forms ro refer nor
only to somerimes long-dead producers of texts (in this case oratory and
poerryJ but also toa recently dead sister? Do tense-forms play similar roles in
rhese different contexts? And do they always con tribute roward metaphorica/
disinterment, or sometimes to reinterment?
. !he two texts are characterized by the humanist preoccupation wirh
in sorne instances reinterring-past cultural producrion, in
oratory (Du Vair) and poetry (Pasquier).
/n hls long preface, De /'eloquence on the alleged
French ClVJC and parlementaire rhetoric, Guillaume du Va ir explicirly /imJts
to discussing those of his pcedecessors and ":ho
. . dJed, sorne very recenrly.
41
Beca use rhey ha ve in h1s v1ew /ess ro otfer
ClVJC eloquence rhan do cerrain orarors from Greek and Roman anriquiry
(Demosrhenes, Aeschines, Ccero). paradoxical/y ir is che mosr remporally
remore oratory rhar he wishes ro make seem mosr presenr, and che mosr
thar he wishes ro make seem most absenr. Tenses are enlisted by h1m m
r e producrion of these effecrs, in such a way as ro confound any .Jssumprwn
rhe Pass Simple and Pass Compas can be undersrood in re/a non ro
referential rimeline, rhe former referring ro rhe nmote pasr .Jnd che
ter ro rhe recent pasr.
The kind of rheroric rhar Du Va ir wishes ro consign ro hisrory _is rhar of
leading French parliamenrarians Guv du Faur de Pihrac,_ Barna he _ nsson,
Mangor, Pierre Versor_is, _Faye ;JI/ ot

dJe_d during rhe decade rhe ..:nmposmon of Du \-.1r s pretau.
YaJr, whose own orarory in the Parlemcnr ot Pans had pJa_,ed
decisive role in rhe /egirimizing of Henri J\' .Js rhe new kmg che W.
1
1
rs
of Religion, rhc Jomin.Jnt kmJ ot'

long, as roo laden w 1rh quoranuns, .Jnd t.ulmH ro ffh
NEIL KENNY
sweep them a long and rhereby give broader civic authority arn
the pnpulation as a _who.le. He a broadly Ciceronian
(falling short of CJCeromamsm) as the he prac.tices hirnself.
main way he tnes to make that ts by pubhshing his
translarions ofDemosthenes, Aeschmes, and Ctcero. plus a pastiche of A .
C\odius hy Du Vair

to a_ll of which own l'eloquence
serves as an them m .rhe printed hook.
Like countless humamst ed1tors of anc1ent Du Vatr makes these texts
from a remate past {plus his own pretend vers10n of an ancient speech) see
very present through a combination of the Prsent wirh deictic pointers :
what rhe reader sees hefore their eyes: "Car vous y voyez [PR] un discours
arraisonn, ferme et solide, ... ] A cest exorde [ ... ]y recognoissez [PR] des
artfices merveilleux, \ ... ]a mettre ce qui peut apporrer plus de grace le premier,
differer le reste en un endroit, oU il soit ouy avec moins d'envie, et apres que
les esprits des auditeurs seront-ja preparez, [. .]."
41
But by "herelthere" ()')
Du Va ir means not just the ancient speeches encountered in translation on the
ensuing pages by the silent reader, but also the future speeches that he wants
thar silent reader ro produce through imitation of these models. For Du Vair,
the living spring ("source vive") or power ("vertu") of true Eloquence-which
he often hypostatizes with a capital E-is best described by the Prsent or Pass
Compas: "Mais cette grande et divine eloquence 3. laquelle est de u le premier
lieu d'honneur, que Demosthenes entre les Grecs, Ciceron et Hortensius entre
les Latins, ont trouvee \PCJ, quise forme [PRJ tel stile qu'elle veut \PR]: et
te\ que le subject requien [PR], qui est [PR] pleine d'ornemens, pleine de
mouvements, qui ne meine [PRJ pas l'auditeur mais l'entraine [PRJ: qui regne
IPRJ parmy les peup\es, (. .].''44 The Pass Compas "ont trouvee," with its
present perfect conveys the message that rhe Eloquence found b_y
Dem?sthene!.

Ctcero is sti\1 with us. In French-language humanism ths

C.ompo!.e 15 constantly used (in contradisrinction w the Pass Simple,
whch here wou\d have been trouverent) to represent certain dimensions of
42. On pastiche, see Magmen
43. Du Va1r, Orutres 229 (m Jt;\ic . .. . d sound
\ .. !In e:ordiu s), For here see reasoned, an J for
begmnmg wuh what wi\1 charm them yo_u wonderful (. toa
place where it WJI\ he h..:ard With

_':"ost, postponing remamder been

memally pnmed." ammosty now that rhe hsteners ha ve
44. lh1d. 215: '"But that great and divine do hest,
that found the deservcs to be _ranked h gt rhe
Romans, that mou\ds for lhe\f any style tha;'
1
and C1cero and Hortenstus amongsires),
that full of ornamenh and mnvemems th t pleases the subject-mauer requ
11
,
the that reigm among peop\es does not so much lead and sweep alo g
. h present.That is cm/y half the story, however. Du Yillr
/ivmg
011
m t e b 1 h 1
1
niqUJtY as
1
help resuscitate true Eloquence, uta so ro e p cons1gn
not on y toro hisrory. Ironically, whereas he uses the Prsenr and
dcfccrive oratory he mostly uses the Jmparfait, Pass Simple,
-Compase ro " '
Compas for rhose dece_ased aJrhough' sorne
!nends ofhis: "Ses discours estment IIMPJ SI rempils de passages, d
d'authoritez,qu' peine pouvmt-on j!MPJ bren prendre le lil de son oraJSon
:r his verdict on Brisson, erstwhile president of rhe Paris Parlemenr.'H The
rhe oratory, the more emphatically ir is presented as impinging upon
rhe presenr, for example through a flurry of perfecta! occurrences of the
Pass Compos for Faye d'Espeisses, rhe besr of this disappointing bunch of
French orarors: "JI a faicr (PCJ de belles actions: et mesmes pour l'eloquution
il y a apport [PC] peut-estre autant d'ornement quepas un de ceux
qui ont est devant luy."
46
The Prsent is fleeringly u sed only for two speeches
(by Pibrac) that Du Vair has seen in prinr. As ir happens, Du Va ir judges them
as poo_r, and he compliments Pibrac on (allegedly) regretting publishing them.
Bur shows rhar Du Var (like many humanist editors of ancienr orarory)
assoclates the Prsenr with the prior afterlife of past oral performances, and
rhe problem with his recent colleagues is rhat none of rheir performances
have deserved rhat afterlife: "Que! ouvrage nous onr-iJs laiss {PCJ qui les a ir
:urvescu fPCJ, et qui soit encare entre nos mains beaucoup pris er esrim?"
4
-
n order ro be thoughr ro have contributed ro rranshistorical Efoquence, an
would need his work ro be printed anda/so ro ha ve rhat prinred version
praJsed in the Prsent. (As ir happens, precise/y rhar did eventual/y happen
of the orators criricized by Du Vair;
411
in France, De /'eloquence
. ran(otse had more immediate influence in courrly and monduin rdes rhan
m parliamenrs.H)
maThe between tense, oral perform;mce, prinr, and indeed
nuscnpr was central ro rerrospective assessmenrs of French poerry as well
as oratory, The tenses chosen ro refer ro poerry could conrribure ro wh.Jt
rhought of as its dying or being resuscirared a_fter rhe own
etme. As Emmanuelle Mortgar-Longuet has shown, m France, trom the

lhid. 21 ]: "His spcc..:hcs wcn so full ot o.JUorarinns. <."t;Jrio

lt wa!> diffindr ro gct , grip on rhc rhrcad ot h.s or.uion."
46. lhid. 214: "Hc madc sorne finc spcl..:hts: .md he llJC<."tt'"d pt'"rh.lpS'
;JnJ thar IS
grearly valuld "' Wt'" hold ir in our h.mds?"
48. sl't', fnr l"X<IIllpk-. H,r,n!<llr'$ "',, . , .... ,$ puhlt.u.s. whi..:h l"UJI(;ull_S S
l-'ayc l\1angur, 1'1hral", ;md othcr!o, iududing Du \';ur hun!odt.
4'1. Slc hun.lroil 13; Sanlicr
NEIL KENNY
late sixteenth century onward, humanistic techniques were applied b .
Pasquie[ GuiHaume Colletet, and others ro their writing of
corpus poetry (mainly verse, but al so in the broade; e v.ast
sense of "poetry" that includes, for example, the prose fi.ctions of
Rabelais)." In Pasquier'shistory of French poetry, first published in 1607
inc\uded in his massive htstory of France, the Recherches de la France, Poer
constant\y given a capital P, is transhistorical (like Eloquence for Du Vair) bry,
in rhis case not transcultura\.
51
Indeed, the Gallican, politique magistrate,
historian Pasquier presents himself as resuscitating a distinctive tradition of
French poetry as the cultural wing of his campaign to resuscitate in war-torn
France an ancient, Gaulish identity and constitution: "En quoy je pense faire
oeuvre de merite, de tant plus que si les Poetes par leurs livres font revivre
ceux qui sont morts, i'auray par un privilege special de ma plume, donn la
vie 3. nostre Poesie, recitant son origine, anciennet, et progrez. [ ... ] Je diray
doncques que la Poesie par nous observee a est (PC], et est [PR] ds en
regne dedans nostre France, [. .]."
52
The lawyer Pasquier has rwo favorite
verbal phrases for representing French customs, practices, and insritutions as a
conrinuum over rime: the first is this legal-sounding collocation of the Prsent
and Pass Cornpos of the verb estre, "a est, et est," ''has been and is," which
uses the potential of the Pass Compas to continue the past into the present,
53
as does the second phrase, which is "ont rousjours est," "ha ve always been,"
used, for example, when Pasquier argues rhat one of rhe distinctive halimarks
of French poetry is linguistic ingenuity: "En relles matieres d'esprir,les nosrres
ont tousjours est {Pq sur toutes autres nations desireux de l'honneur."
54
Tense-ch?ice is si crucial to Pasquier's "giving life" -as he put it in on.e
of the prevlous quotanons-to much French poetry, his inserting of ir inro th!S
50. See Mortgat-tonguet.

the Recherches, see Mongat-longuet 58-62, 101-l,l04-

s2. Pas' uier 1; 5,127-32, 166-69,307-10. . ..

book 7 ll60_71 ("De !'origine de _nostre

l _believe that 1 will llave theiT works, poets re_susctate the
gwe hfe to our poetry, recounting its o:fi, m_y pen 's excepuonal power, 1 will
!>ay thatthe by us ha\ progress. 1: .) So,l .\."
1-or a ed1tion, !.>ee (lasquier, Les m our hance, and sn\1 does
S .l._ Th'-'. combmatmn of tense!> st d d. es
19
_96. d he
un!>dlctlon of ordonnances offica\ documents rhat
\ ... \ du, dedar, statu & ordonn, du.ons dec\the past mto the present; e.g., A
& plal!.>t, qu'\ ..
42
':1 ;W arons,statuons & ordonnons, voU d
mden:d, we !>ay, dedare, decree and th:thave .\ dedared, decrecd an
.S4. Recherches lb21, 6ll; "Poets\
10
1- . JoO(
all uthen m then to atta m hunour in thl!.> ki m our_ nat1on ha ve always out
nd oi mgenuitv."
TENSE IN FRENCH GRAMMARs, Du VAIR AND PASQUJER
iving rradition. For, to extend his metaphor slightly, the lifeblood of the poetry
1
,
10
reside in 1ts bemg not ust read now, but read by a SJzeab/e commumty:
Pasquier's emphasis that print rather than manuscript is rhe sine qua non
ofsurvival. Pasquier's abundant and lengthy quoting is designed ro enhance, or
insomecases produce, that availability in prinr. And the quotations are almost
a/ways introduced in the Prsent, whatever Pasquier's precedng past-rense
discussion of the poet in question. The shift to the Prsent is indeed a signa/
rhatthe quoring is about co start. Pasquier does not wrire "As Ronsard wrote
.. " or even "As Ronsard said ... ," bur "So fet's now hear Ronsard" ("Oyons
doncques maintenant Ronsard"), presenting a voice that speaks (or in sorne
cases perhaps sings).
55
Rather rhan aiming to quote a representative sample
ofFrench poetry (as a Penguin anthoiogist mighr}, Pasquier somerimes rargers
rhis life-saving intervenrion at poetry rhat would otherwise die, such as rhe
chant royal, bal/ade, and rondeau, of which he quores specimens by Clmenr
Marot in order ro keep the French conscious of their "/inguisric ingenuiry"
tradition: "Si ces trois especes de Poesie estoient encores en usage, je ne les
vous eusse icy representees, comme sur un tablea u:( . . . ]. Er paree que de cecy
depend la cognoissance d'une anciennet qui esr incognue,la \'eric ese
te/les matieres d'esprit, f ... J."S6 Quoting from a poeric work is really rhere/ore
rhe _activity as printing it whole, which is also explicirly as
ir. Pasquier praises his friend and fellow Anrome
for gerting rhe Jare-rwelfrh-cenrury Vers de mor! by Helmand de
printed (in 1595), in its own "langage anc1en., ro and
50
!or
havmg "luy redonn la vie": "Le malheur avoir voulu que son Poeme de la m rt
fusr morr par la negligence, ou longueur des ans.'' ,- . . ..
On .rhe other hand, as we saw wirh Du Vair, censes
Pasquler uses rhem to rry and ensure rhar orher poems_ . _
1
J . The cense
and truly dead. Like aiJ rradirions, his excludes as presenr
uses most in order ro den y Ji fe is rhe '-sumerhing
not jusr rhe act of a poem, bur_ :ver
1
t rte..:rivdi r;uher rh.1n
Punctual rhar only had a timte

ot .Xt-n's
perfecrally). for example,

111
an unusu.tl Pass Smpk
cyde_of dense !ove poems, ( ,
11
._-elehra /PSI sous le- nom de Dc.he J.
than tn the Prsenr ("une Ma1srresse I.JU
NEIL KENNY
Moreover, Pasquier Dlie of the oxygen of by refraining fro
quoting a word from 1t, and then uses the same Passe Simple ("mou ") _rn
its aura of perfecrivity or finality, for the death of both author ,kWith
. . . . f Wor "11
affecta \PSl une ?bscunte_sa_ns Qm ut son Livre mourut jPS]
avec luy, a u mmns ne vo1s-e pomt depms 1l a1t couru par nos mains." 19
(Sve died in about 1560; rhe Delte had seen only one further editi .
1564.} The role played by in Pas_quier's of the
between a tradition's living ms1de and 1ts dead outs1de 1s all the more visible i
this case beca use the evaluation in question is so at odds with our own,
currenrly puts Sve at the heart of the sixteemh-century canon.
ln consolation literature, bodily death is the most obvious cutoff poinr
(or potetJtial cutoff point), "tranchant le fil de vos jours," having "coup
\e noeud d'une si douce et si sainete amiti," as the same Du Vair rells his
dead sister Philippe in the piece he wrote, probably in 1584, lamenting her
dearh at age rhirty in a cholera epidemic.
60
The piece is far removed from
Du Vair's preoccupation with civic eloquence. Presumably intended for
circulation among family members, it was not printed umil twentytwo
years later, running to seven pages in a folio volume. But its empharically
rhetorical character is reflected by its inclusion among Du Vair's "Actions
et traictez oratoires" in that volume. Like so many of Du Vair's speeches, it
has a powerfu\ deliberative thrust (a\ongside praise of the deceased), but in
this case the power resides unusually in the painfully inconclusive narure of
the deliberation: What can l do now that my sister 5 dead? Tense is at the
heart of that incondusiveness in a piece rhat deploys Stoic commonplaces
far less confidently (as Alexandre Tarrete has shown) rhan rhe consolatory
for other people by this famous popularizer of Stoicism,
61
whlle a\so bemg the only piece written by Du Vair in which he puts himself
center sta!,e throughout, broadly imitating the pseudo-Ciceronian
?r
00
death of Cicero's daughter T ullia, that had started appeanng
m prmt m vanous cities the preceding year, 1583.62
Most-but, cr_uc,.ally, not a\1-of Du Vair's piece takes the form of an
He recoums to her first the death of their
of tenses
5
her death. The visibly careful sequencmg
Wlt an
1
mpress10n of pain. The Prsent is used early
011
TENSE IN FRENCH GRAMMARS, Du VAJR ANO u.s
. way characteristic of consolation literature, as rhe expresson
such as rhe one according ro which grief will be mercifully
fully vented: "Bref plus l'acrion esr [PR] grande, er moins elle
duree."'' Sur the Prsenr serves rhe medium rhrough
t h Du Vair commumcates w1th h1s s1ster, m a t1me that rs represented
; present moment of his "Presidez, esprit dvin
er sanctili: Car je presage, mats vrayement Jf le croy, que vous esres {PRJ
mainrenanr colloquee a u sejour de gloire et d'eternit. "
64
Ths Prsent, at the
most oprimisric moments, is also the medium of conrinued reciprocity, as
with rhis chiasmus: "Aussi vous souvenez (PR] de nous, comme vous nous
avez aim lPC] jusques a la mort, ainsi nous aymez [PRJ vous encor apres
la morr."6.S However, a latent suspicion that the apostrophe might mecely be
an empty rhetorical figure
66
becomes salient at the end, when the Prsent of
nvo-way or even just one-way communication is suggesred to be probably a
consoling fiction created by Du Vair's rhetoric rather than the expression of
an onrological reality: "Quelle autre consolarion me resrera doncques, sinon
que la nature, je trouve quelque moyen de vous faire vivre mal-gr la
vous imaginant et imprimant si vivemenr en ma memoire, que je sois
persuad de vous voir, queje vainque mes sens, er les conrraigne
croJre que vous soyez tousjours presente devane moy?"
6
.. So if rhe degree of
presence thar the piece seems ro grant bis sisrer diminishes progressivdy, rhar
15
partly beca use of rhe seJf-consciousness wirh which Du Vair draws .arrenrion
ro his rhetorical means (induding enrgeia) of conjuring up rhar presence.
The progressive diminution of his sister's "appearance of presence" (ro
paraphrase Garnier's 1558 grammar) is also played out rhrough rhar Frem.:h-
specific relarion between rhe Pass Simple, rhe Pass Compas, and the
For much of rhe piece, che Prsenr combines wirh rhe Pass Compose ro
express two crucial points (corresponding ro whar sorne linguisrs clll
rneaning or "presenr relevance .. bur wirh an power rhar beiJes thlt
phrase's dryness): his sister is srill now lisrening ro him .tnJ che pase evenrs
NEIL KENNY
rcxounted have an impact him that continues into rhe presenr " .
toutes les peines, celle que 'ay senty [PC]Ia plus vive, et qui a M.as de
tourhes d'adversit s'est plustost renouvelee [PC], ;'a est [PC]
1

de cene infortune qui vous a tenu [PC] six mois entieres en vosa
incroyablcs, vous a en fin fait 1 PC) quitter la viej et trancha m le
jours, a coup lPC)Ie noeud d'une .si douce et si sainete amiti, qu':p:::
en cstre priv, je veux plus nen esperer en ce Here, near
the start of the p1ece, desp1te the commonplace reference to Atropo h
Compas implies that brother and sister .do ar leasr occupy the

"part of time" (Maupas) on one levelj Du Vair would have had
ro use a Pass Simple {e.g., "vous fin qultter la vie") to consigo her to
another "part of time," which would have stretched a secondperson address
to its limits. Similarly, even in rhe midst of Du Vair's later narration ro his
\ister of her own death, those events are initially, consolingly located within
the same "part of time" as the present of Du Vair's speaking/writing by the
sequence of temes, from a historical Prsent that for Quintilian would count
as a figure and would be called "marked" in modero linguistics ("Voicy de
grandes douleurs coliques qui vous surprennent [PR], des passions desesperees
qui \'OUS assaillent [PR)")
6
'j to the Pass Compas ("jusques a tant que les
eHects de vostre mal l. .} vous ont rendu [PC) a la mort").
70
However, the
apostrophe to his sister rhen ends, and is succeeded by one to God. This
hera\ds a sequence of tenses-with his sister now referred ro in the third
person-that has de\'astating expressive power: "Je !'ay veue [PC} toute ravie
en.esperance escheller les. Cieux, et d'un vol d'esprit s'eslancer entre vos bras,
S,egneur, Je \'ay veue lPC] disje au plus fort de ses rravaux, [. .). Helas!
quand Je me souviens de ces derniers propos, et du discours dont je la vy (PSJ
cene miserable et douloureuse vie, je ne S(jay si je suis encare vivant, ou
SI ayant pass avec elle j'accompagne son esprit, ou bien si resvant je me forge
:
8
0
:: oi al\ the the one that 1 felt most keenly, and that
memorv of that the. shghtest encounter with adversiry, has ?eenhole
eventual\. m whll;:h you in unimaginable wrment for sJX w hich
severed the Knot depart hfe, the thread of your days, and
of it, 1 do not to ho sf p so sw.eet and holy that, now that 1 ha ve been dep
69. lbJd. 109; "Great in this world." . . ssions
assauh you... pam spnngs on you now, and despamng P
3
70. lbJd. 109; ..
death."
TENSE IN FRENCH GRAMMARS, Du VAIR AND PASQUIER
d chose qui passe les bornes de toute humanit."
71
Polyptoton
qu<lqu< songe ol rhe Pass Compas "]e l'ay veue" into the Pass Simple
"'"' drives a wedge between his sister's bodily life and the present
"ela speakinglwriting, reinforcing the dos u re lexicalized by "clorre."
ofDu '' d 'b f d' d d b h'
Th resr of rhe sentence escn es a sense o JsortentatJon m uce y r JS
finae/iry, which rhe Pass Simple has made more acure here than ar any poinr
up unril now. Can Du Vair really be on the wrong side of the wedgel
These rhree texts by Du Va ir and Pasquier suggest rhat in a period where che
/anguage of high culture was saturated wirh metaphors of resuscirarion and
reanimation, where so much effort wenr into disentangling what oughr ro live
on from the past from what ought notro, and where humanisr preoccuparion
wirh the language arrs intensified people's awareness of minutiae ofexpcession,
tenses played a central role in such discursive disinterring-and indeed
reinterring. The similarity between the uses of tenses in the very different
of political eloquence, proro-nationalist literary history, and personal
gnef_pOJnts to underlying affinities between writing pracrices in rhese conrexts,
and m panicular ro their constanr negoriation of relarions berween the living
and the dead. In other words attenrion ro tenses can poinr ro srrucrural
between domains of practice and affecrive experience rhat
orherwise seem very disrinct from each orher. Bur this affinity is nor
tdenrny, for the negotiation of relarions berween rhe living and rhe dead is
played out in these texrs in variable, specific ways. The dazzlng sequence of
tenses penned by Du Va ir ata rime of privare grief suggesrs rhar renses did nor
a_lways comribure ro producing neat curoff poinrs berween whar was presenr
(m various senses) and what was past oc absenr (in various_ sensesl,
the_y did enable wrirers ro explore rhe difficulry. and somenmes rhe pam, ot
trymg to esrablish or recognize such curoff poinrs.
'0/C.Jmbn
NEIL KENNY
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5
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Aartin Peterson
tJora 1v1
coMPETING CODES AND INVOLUNTARY
coNFESSIONS OF THE FLESH IN LA PRINCESSE
DECLEVES
L'ambition et la galanterie taient /'Jme de cette cour, et occupaient
galement les hommes et les femmes. Il y avait tant d'intrets et
tant de cabales diffrentes, et les dames y avaient tant de part que
/'amour tait toujours mel aux affaires et les affaires /'amour.
Personne n'tait tranquil/e, ni indiffrent; on songeait J s'lever, iJ
plaire, a servir ou a nuire; on ne connaissait ni l'ennui, ni l'oisivet,
et on tait toujours occup des plaisirs ou des intrigues.
Ambition and gallantry were the so/e occupation o( the court, busying
men and women alike. There were so many interests and so many d1{(erent
intrigues in which women took part that /ove was always mingled
with po/itics, and politics with /ove. No one was ca/mor indif(erent;
everyone sought to rise, to pleasc, to serve. or to ,,ure; no eme uus
weary or id/e, every one was taken up with pleasure or intrigue.
-Madame de Lafayerte, Lu Prmcesse de Clhes
1
T
aken from rhe early pages of rhe Princesse de Clhes ( l6 78J, a rexr ofren
referred to as the firsr modern French novel, rhe epigraph sers rhe st.Jge
for the delicate milieu inro which rhe rexr's herome is rhrusr a few pages
larer. Ir also raises quesrions abour rhe n ..nure of rhe courrly seU: wh.Jt ir
consists of, how ir 5 consrrucred, ,md how ir acrs in puhli..: and pnvare ser-
tings. Much of modern scholarship has soughr ro limn rhe origins of rhe
modern self, often loc.tting ir in seermngly paradoxic.t! ..:rures ot
and knowledge such as sacramental ,;ontession . .! AJJressmg horh relrgrous
and legal confessions
11
many hisrori'-:.-11 '-:onrexrs, Perer Brooks wrrres rh.1r rr
l. Ed. Hl'rn.ud l,lflK<)Ud (;.Jihm.Jrd, 1'1721 142. Enghsh r:Jn1on: r:J. John D.
l.ytlll!o (New y
11
rk: NorttJII, J9Y4) IH-11. All turther rrtert>n.:e-.s w rht" re'l.t .In'
parenthr:tlt. al! y, wlth transi.HIOII!o rhe notes. . JJ
2. famouJol) arKut'd lly 1\.fKhd 1-"t.lllt."dllh m rhe hrsr volunu: ot h11o ,
SexuiJIIIt> ( 1 Y7b).
NORA MARTIN PETERSON
is '"de_eply intricated with our sense of interiority, its for intr _
spectJon, self-knowledge: (171 ). In the Prmcesse de Cleve:
confession, embedded ume tn t_he courtly plays an undeniabie'
and yer complex, role m rhe of the character's development'
What 1 cal\ involuntary confess10ns of rhe flesh-stgns of the interior th 1"
out unhidden onto rhe exterior of the body-might appear to
5
h'P
, , . . . tct t e
restraims of a century by s pnv1le.gmg of the rational
and by an increasingly stnct tmperattve t? r_em m stgns of the flesh.3 In
a court obsessed with d1sstmulatton, how could involuntary
confessions of the flesh poss1bly contnbute to the development of the modern
Western subject? l argue that such confessions strike to the very core of the
early modern self. ln the initial moment of their appearance, they cannot be
performed, dissimulated, or falsifi.ed.
4
Because of their intrusive and often
3. Clai ing that one can attain "un empire tres absolu sur toutes les passions, si on
employait assez d'industrie a les dresser et a les conduire" (article 50), Descanes goes
into detail ahout the passion of desire, which he identifies as the most violem, capable
of rendering "toutes les parties du corps plus mobiles" (arricle 101 ). By the end of the
seventeenth century, Descartes's treatment of the passions, especially as delineated in
Les Passions de L'Ame (1649), had been extensively debated. Nicolas Malebranche
(l63S-1715), for example, writes that "Lorsqu'on est surpris de quelque passion vio
lente, si l'on prend soin de faire rflexion sur ce que \'on sent dans les entrai\les et
dam les autres parties du corps . comme aussi aux changements de visage qui
l'_accompagnent; et si on considere que wmes ces divers agitations de nerfs sont en-
ui=rement involontaires, et qu'el\es arrivent meme malgr toute la rsistance que notre
volante Y appone, on n'aura grand'peine a se \aisser persuader de la simple
l'on v1ent de faire de tous ces rapport entre les nerfs" (RV ll,l par. IV). Bened!Ct
\ disagrees even more strongly with Descartes in his Ethics, wher_e
he wrnes, Man ha_s knowledge of himse\f except through the modifications of h1s
own body and theu Ideas" (166). Jansenism, which gained momentum throughout
the s.evemeenth century, emphasized the fallen nature of man and insisted that only
God s grace rescue m_an from this state of weakness. See Bnichou 122 for a
complete descnptlon of the mlluence of this movement on thinkers and writers of the
the Princesse de_ C/eues, readers see both systems of thoug?t at
and she to escape, mask, and overcome her passwns,
reflecting the jansenist ssi . attempt to supersede her passions, thus
treatment uf pa!>sion its .'s;
10
t e of the flesh. For more on the rhetonca
4_. Two examples from the

see La m y. es-
smns. In the first, M me de Chartres tries to the 1mport of involuntary
the instead of her. This makes the ri nce her that ce
que llll d1t sa mere, ... _qu'elle changea de vi .. '!,ce:s hlush: Elle fut s1 surpnse eher
mother's company, gomg 00 10 reflect, by he:lf( :9). s_he withdraws ofl
!169). The second comes 5000 after the pr" . ' n the sgmllcance of her reactl
m..:ess confesses her indination for another
1
me effect, they must quickly be deciphered and incorporated into
unweco f d. l h
eprable mode o tscourse, or e se t ey rhrearen ro destroy rhe exre-
an ;'cade of courtliness so carefully established. Nevertheless moments in
rror ra . . '
which sysrems o f. control break down, between public and privare
rrcmprs ro sray m control, and representatwns of the body under emocional
:rress, rhough indeed rroubling, are aiJ integral parts in the machne 0 { early
modern self-production, as they give readers a place ro begin ro Jook for rhe
self. In rhe pages thar follow, 1 focus on momenrs chat interrupt che civilizing
process, arguing thar these seemingly destructve shows of rhe nrerior are, in
facr, equally, if not more, invested in the production of che self as the layers
of dissmulation in volved in the proper behavior demanded ar courr. The
relarionship between involuntary confessions of rhe flesh and dissimularive
behavior, as highlighted by the tension between theorerical modds of confes-
sion and restraint, shows rhe extent ro which rhe princess's interior is deeply
rroubled.
5
As Brooks writes, ''confession . both creares and is cceated by
a new sense of selfhood" (97). Jnvoluntary confessions of the fJesh arbitrare
berween confession and dissimulation, crearng an ultimarely productive ten-
sion. Rather rhan argue for rhe rriumph of in che Princesse de
Cleves, 1 show rhat conflicring codes impede condusJVe development. Nev-
errheless, involuntary confessions of rhe flesh grant che reader access. ro _rhe
princess's nascent, albeit troubled, interior, in ways rhar no verbal contesswn
or dissimulative performance ever could. nd che aurhor herseli
In an that she, her husband, of aher husband rhar she
all proclaJm ro be matchless, the succumbing ro rhese feel-
developed feelings for anorher Ar che end of che rexr, again
s_he beg_s h_im ro rake her_ awa candor, princess divulges her rrue
exp!lcltly pomtmg our rhe ranry
0
b "ecr of her affecrion. and rhen goes on ro
feelmgs ro M. de Nemours, rhe
0
J hh tlrsr'":onfess1on,or.Jt'f!U,_(roher
explain why she will nor fuJtiJI rhem. Sor ker_ nrral momenrs w rhe pnno.:ess's
husband) and her (ro how dehberarel:'" she sel"ks ro
development; more 1mporrandy,
NoRA MARTtN PETERSON
carve our an interior space for herself.
6
The moments in which the pri
loses control of herself teach her {and reader) as much about her i
as do rhose in which she attempts to nav1gate court culture.
The Competing Codes of the Bete d' Aveu and the Bete Courtoise
For Michel foucault, the imperative that all Christians attend confession
annualh' 5 a central moment in the development of the modero Western self 1
He rhe relationship between power and knowledge, a
that, he daims. results in the production of truth: "Depuis le Moyen Age
au moins, les socits occidentales ont plac l'aveu parmi les rituels majeurs
dont on anend la production de vrit ... on avoue, ou on est forc d'avouer.
Quand il n'est pas sponran, ou impos par quelque impratif intrieur, l'aveu
est extroqu; on le dbusque dans l'cime ou on l'arrache a u corps" (78, 79).8
Along the same line of thought, Brooks writes that "confessional literature
gives rhe impression of deprh and recess, delving into the subject's past and
into the subject's deepest and most hidden thoughts and wishes, in order to
account for the individual self" (102). Whereas involuntary confessions of
the f\esh are obviously not produced in the same way as their verbal counter-
pans, they reflect the same kind of depth. The violence with which they wrest
themselves to the body's surface is indica ti ve of a similar kind of production
of truth. As a result of confession, the individual gradually becomes increas-
ingly "responsible for the discourse of his or her own identity and personal-
6. Howe\er, t equally important to note the differences between the two. In the first
the. does not reveal who--or even, explicitly, that-she \oves, bur
111
the second she openly admits her feelings, at leasr verbally. La ter in the
his wife confessing (to his her
the king; the that he Wlll accompany rhem rhe1r w1th
husband"s eves (
249
) Final\. sound of Nemours's na me g1ves her away m her
the <ll'ell ;o her to note rhat readers do not ha ve access W
s1on. A\1 of of ll
1
d, whereas they are admitted ro the second confes-
the confes'i>onal o,yo,tems, ,:f ev1dence the complex.iry of
texl. They a\o,u mdicate a tnectory uf at work lll
second aveu; rh1s point wll be development that culmmares Wlt
'. mandated by rhe Founh Lateran greater deprh below.
IL Smu: the M1ddlc Ages at least, s . (
21
5 ). .
one nf the mam ntua\s we rdy un fur the ha ve established rhe confesSJOil
to When n is not (>f truth.. . Ont' confesses-o_r IS
the IS wrung from a ptrson by Vlolence by internal
place m the !>oul, or extracted from the body .. \SI!, n IS dnven from
rr" (JI O). Much as in a verbal confession,. the producer of an involuntaT)
,;nlession of the flesh has a moment rn whrch to al! oca te, hide, or interpret
hcrslip before rt rs subected to the scrutrny of onlookers.' It rs he re that rhe
realms of confessJOn and restramt JS not wrong to wrire rhat
Ml'individu s'est longtemps authent1fie par la reference des autres ... puis on
/'a authentifi par le discours de vrit qu'il tait capable ou oblig de renir
sur Jui-mme" (78-79), but he is mprecse.
10
Ir would be more accurare ro say
rhar during the seventeenth century, both of these discourses occurred simul-
raneously. In the Princesse de C/eves, members of court sriJJ define themselves
Jargely by reference to others, even as the secular confession ar work in the
rexr produces strains of truth that operare very much in accordance with the
Foucauldian model.
11
If Foucault describes the modern Western subject as a
bete d'aveu, then it coexists in the Princesse de Cleves with what 1 would call
rhe bte courtoise. The drive to dissimulate at aH costs stands in direct contrasr
with the impetus to confess. These two modes of reading and producing mean-
ing stand in an uneasy negotiation with each other, making the significance
of involuntary confessions of rhe flesh even grearer. While these confessions
illuminate similar rruths as verbal confessions, and despire thar (oc perhaps
hecause) they often arise in reaction ro rhe restraints imposed on members of
rhey are completely organic. The moments in "':'hich .involuntary
swns slip berween both discourses are the m whJCh rhey are rheJr
mosr producrive. Where does rhis lea ve rhe princess m rhe wake of her smguJ.Jr
confession? As a woman in search of her own idenriry aparr from courr, she

unwittinl.\)' p,ets stw.k, hrtWt'l'll what Foucault Gt\ls '' "cndif'kation ditf
du fa m. pouler"'. (H7)
1
wlll'n sht tn her hushand and thc
tholt tn rcm;lin \'l.rtuom., slll' must snnultt.mtously concta\ htr trur fce\i ' .on
In C!'r>IIIZWK Pron'S$ ( 19.19), ;\ S<Kiologica\ i\
tion ot t;trly modtrn m;mmrs and rwrsonotllty smr.:c the hut MidJ\ A K.
Nnrhl'rt Elias in thc "_society was in gcs,
:<\W w!th
1
1.e., wi_th a stronger restraint
of thrr (l 1 ). The term '11
1
1ilte enurp,ed sunulto.mc..ously with ti
movc tow.ud ",:vili1.ation.''tntcrinp, thc vocahl.llary of manners in han;:
J.uring the sixtcenth !..'entury togctlur with severa! mflm.ntial conduct manu-
.lls. lnspired hy ltlldass;Hl' C\stiglione's Book ol tht Courtier ( 1528), court
sol.'ilty placed an incrcasing dlmand on sdf-cnntrol, dissimulation, and cnurt
linl'!>S.
11
In Fmncc, Jlld doscr to thc world of Mado1me de Lafayette, Nicolas
faret's f.'IJcmPU'Slt' /mm"U', t>ll,l,'llrf de p/aire aJa ((lUrt ( 16]0) further insisted
on conctaling thc passions:
H y a d.l mesmc um reigle generale qui sen sinon i1 laJUerir, du
moinl> a m s'en cslnigner jamais. C'est de fuyr comme un precipice
mortel cettl' malhcureuse et importune Affectation . ct d'user
par tout d'unc cerraine negligence qui cache l'artifice, et tesmoignc
que \'on nt faut rien que comme sans y penser, et sans aucune sorte
de peine.. . Soyons done maistres de nousmesmes, er s.;achons
commander a nos propres affections, si nous desirons gaigner celles
d'autruy. (.H-.H,

12. "(hlll(a\ (nJifiC",\tlllll 11f thl' mdunnlt'llt ttl spt'<tk" (6S).
1-"m a thorou)!,h invl'!>t1gat1on of F.lias\ work, Sl'l' Jonathan Flet(her, Violenn ,md
Cn/Jz.Jtion: A11 lmrollut"tmll to tln Work of Nor/Jert Efws (Cambridge: Pollty, 1997);
Mtnndl, Norlwt 1-./ws: An /ntroduaion (Duhlin: U Duhlin P, 199tl);
anJ van Knl'kcn, Norlwrt rihlS (New York: Romledgl', !99H).
14. Tht hr'>l uf to m;tkl' W<lVl''> .l("rtlS!> Europc was Dcsidl'rius E
lii'IIIIJII' Jmtnlumr (On l"IVihty in hoy!>) (\.BOJ,
Although LJ!>IIghunl'\ tt'Xt w.l!> thl' mo\t inllucntiJI, 1 do not me;tn to
mp\y thJtumrt mJnu.lh Tl'nt.lintd '>1,111(" trnm ttxt on. Tre,\tiSl'!o, whill' horroWIIlV.
hravily frnm tlll' ttnt'l'> wt fnrth hy Lhtiv,lionc, rdltl.lcd tht rultrs and moJes of thc
JI whid1 thcy wcrt writttn. hn mv purpmt''> 1 dl!>till rhost'
almut alftlt th.u Jppcar tu nmam rdcv,mtm tlw /';"''''Ht'
1
1' (:hl't's. For morl' ;thout
the \phcrt uf (onJull m.mu.1\,, Ardin A (.'l'm'lllogv o( M,/11
rrns: rf.'i''''.JI R/atruns 111 1-"r.mc,m,l h!J:/,,;,J fnmttlnl;ourt11ntll
( .ellllfl')' t<.:\llt<l)l,ll: ll of o 11, J '::I'::IH), c!>pl'li,l\1}' \21-54.
ahic { .al;:c

th.11 to .wmd AI+H with all

t>ha\1 liJIKCJ\ Arl tts f y .l\.;)!oiOilltl olll lll :1 ll'rtam Manntr, .
'
11
Y that Wl' o a\1 thmg!>, 11 Wl'rl', hy 1 el
1

011
overcoming one's passions.reflec:rs in pMt th.c infJuent:e of <:arce
!h
1
,uht on seventeentht.:t'IHury soc1ety as well asan mr.:rcasingly ,rntra/
lrlllflOil'l e J .. h .. ". h
,,;,
1
stnse 0 f power at court. ...ourt y aut ennc.Jty not ;11 intrrn:1J
h but in rhe rruth one hopes to perform. By tmplymg that he is what he
and seems what he 1s, the sm:cessfuJ L:ourtier emboclies hiensanct!.
'[he rcxr does not e ven pretenJ to advocate the true acquisition of
,' bdJaviors and opinions, hut skips to the semhlance of rhem.
The workings uf early modern society, Elias writes, are deeply cntrenched
nirh rhis move toward courtliness: "The web of actions grows so comp/ex and
cxrensive, the effort required to behave correctly within it becomes so grcat,
rhar beside rhe individual's consdous an auromaric, hlindly fun"-
rioning apparatus of self-control is tirmly established" (Cuurt 367-68). E/ias\
daim is that sixteenth-century aristocrats are wnditioned from an early <IHC
ro reacr instantaneously and insrinctively ro ourside srimu/i. In facr, he: writes,
by the time the court society reaches irs zenith la re during the reign of l.ouis
XIV and in ro the rule of Louis XVI, "Etiquerre was borne 1t
t:ould not he breached from wirhin, nor only beca use che kmg demanded 1ts
preservarion, but beca use rhe social exisrence of thc peuple m 1t
was itself bound ro ir" (Court 87). Memhers of courr lived wirh an im:reas_inl(
rension berween rhe self and rhe civilizing prm:ess, and thcre was J I{WWing
awareness of rhe difference berween rhe sdf and the Lourtly game lt IS Jsked
ro participare in. 111
NoRA MARTIN l'ETERSON
At the _of the.young who has _not exposed to
courrly stimuh, 15 qmte 1t comes to d1scermng any kind of
truth from this complex web of diSstmulatton. Before the princess and Cleves
marry, Lafayette draws our ro a ?Iush that functions as a marker
0
social currency. When her fiance complams that she does not love him
she should, the princess attempts to infuse her blushing with the meaning
hopes ro convey: "']e rougis si souvent en vous voyant que vous ne sauriez
douter aussi que vorre vue ne me donne du trouble.'-'Je ne me trompe pas
a votre rougeur,' rpondit-il; 'c'est un sentiment de modestie, et non pas un
mouvement de votre Coeur, et je n'en tire que l'avantage que j'en dois tirer.'
Mlle de Chartres ne savait que rpondre, et ces distinctions taient au-dessus
de ses connaissances" (150; emphasis mine).
19
Both Cleves and the princess
refer ro rhe blush as a cultural sign, essentially drawing the distinction between
the modest and shameful blush. Because the princess has only just arrived at
court, and because she has not yet learned the language of court, she believes
she is giving Cleves the proof of affection he seeks.
20
Instead, he recognizes
that her blushes point ro modesty rather than to any kind of desire for him.
The princess is soon thereafter admonished by her mother, "Si vous jugez sur
les apparences en ce lieu-ci ... vous serez souvent trompe: ce qui para:t n'est
presque jamais la vrit" (157).
21
By the time the princess "hopes to show no
sign of her !ove" for Nemours, she has learned the difference between the two
kinds of blushes. All subsequent blushes in rhe rext point to her feelings for
Nemours rarher than her virtuous respect for her husband.
Despite having learned her lesson well, the princess still seeks to retain dis-
from the courr's intrigues. Elias writes that courtly women experienced
an mcrease in "the inner constraint, the self-control which she had to impose
on herself in accordance wirh the form of integrarion and rhe code of behavior
of court Process 156). The same is not unequivocally rrue
of prmcess;_ our young heroine does seek self-mastery, she does not
seek lt At least initially, the princess seeks to overcome rhe
courtly codes and ach1eve true virtue. Rather rhan behave correctly in rhe sight
1
: '"! so often when 1 !lee yo u that you may be su re thar rhe sight of ynu
' edcts mfe. 1 am nor deceJved by your blushes,' he urged 'rhey come from modesty,
an not rom any thn\1 of your h d 1 d ' M
demm!>t:l!t: de Chartrt:!> dJd not an exaggerare their i_mportance. .;;
uf her expenence" 11 5 h . what tu answer; these dtstmctums U'l'rl' oulsJ
, t:mp asts mme).
20. Thoma, LJJI>teru 1denufies the . . , .
dtM.our!>t: anda . prmces!> !> l>trugglt:s a!> an "mability to
m part frum her m cuhnvmcmg fa!>hion" and argues that thi!> fauh l>tems
.. penence t ne (206)
.. he re Wt\1 be often miMaken; wh.tt .tppeoJfS
TIIE PARADO
x oF CouRTLY LlFE IN LA PRtNCt:.ISF m: CtJiVfS 241
she seeks ro behave correctly in the sight of herself. Bur iris not so
,or
1
"7' b moving within rhe sphere of rhe court, she gers caught up m che
_,,mp:'
1
";h/civilizing process as well as in the intrigues of courtliness. This
,,hee for many reasons, since in the moment she fa lis in love with
rhe princess can no longer separare herself from the frenzied sign-
making rhat she hopes wrll throw Nemours and other members of rhe court
off rrack. The game of love, as Elias writes, "is influenced not only by their
hall-involuntary, half-voluntary affect-masking itself, but also by awareness
olrhe masks, by reflection on them" (Court 258). Catherine Liu refers toa
central passage in the text, cited at the beginning of rhis artide, pointing out
rhar "Lalayette's heroine is roen berween the aggressive desire ro disringuish
hersell .. and the civilizing impera ti ve (biensance) to suppress alJ marks
ol parricularity or senriment. The tensions rhar traverse the subjecr of such a
''"lizing process are represenred in the narrative of che novel: [ir} becomes the
"'' ol rheir representability" ( 134).
22
The princess's involunrary confessions of
rhe flesh embody rhe gap between showing and reJiing, berween rrying nor to
show and trying to tell things in a certain way. Whether or not she is aware of
lt, the princess's dissimulations transform her in ro a participant in the courtl.r
game of courtliness.
b ?nce the princess learns "that rhe 'real' is what one is able ro make
. eiJeve and recognize as the truth" (AIIiston 55), she gains a great advancage
10
her self-making project. As she observes herself, knowing thac others' eyes
her, she learns what ir means ro beha ve according ro the and what
t reaction will be if one acts againsr ir.
23
.
h he princess is representing herself ro others. but JS also
. erself to herself since she is here capable of discernmg ;ppropnare trom
behavior, disrincrions rhar were ...

e ses connaissance" ( 150).24 E ven if she dot"s nor su;;esstully
NORA MARTIN PETERSON
rhat her b\ush 5 a blush of shame, there are certainly severa\ other momenrs
when her slips fit into the standards put forth by courtly norms.
Quoting from ]ean de la Bruyre (1645-1696), another influential French
specialist on conduct roughly the de eleves, Elias
uses early modero vocabu\ary to explam the mcreasmgly mechanical pro-
cess of dissimulation: "Each man, as it were, confronts himself. He 'conceals
his passions,' 'disavows his heart,' 'acts his (Civilizing Pro-
cess 399). For Elias, adherence ro codes of CIVIhzed behav1or becomes almosr
synonymous with self-identification. The representation of the self becomes
more important than the acrual self. At the very least, every attempt at dis-
simulation effectively and increasingly blurs the boundary between self and
representation.
The complex new system of rules, which materializes during a time when so
much of individual identiry is on the cusp of faiHng into place, highlights both
the vulnerability and the fertility of the early modero self. If Elias believes that
the civilizing process at court contributed to early modero self-making, others
hightight the distractions inherent in courtly behavior.ln Befare Imagination,
john D. Lyons articulares the obsession with sign-making as a replacement
for "training \the} imaginative faculty in a selective way." Rather than focus-
ing on the creation of setf, the early modero members of court devoted most
of their energy to the production of signs, since, in their view, "they perceive
the world as a set of signs and the people in it as producers and receivers of
signs"

The disconnect between those scholars who argue that the

restraints of the civilizing process led to a greater sense of self-identification
and those who believe that the culture of dissimulation created nothing more
than a mirage of signs and representations need not be resolved here. What 1
mean to show is that the civilizing process proposed by Elias brought about a
seU-control but simultaneously resulted in the opposite, with the
c?nfess.lf the Foucauldian description of confessional discourse
IS the of the self, then the civilizing process
5
its antitheorization.
Y restrammg one can say or do, the self cages itself within a narrow
sphere of In the world of the Princesse de Cleves, both discourses
must coe.xtst; the chooses to confess to her husband at the same time
as she tnes to restram hersetf externally. She resists giving in to her feelings
for Nemours, herself from the courtly game, but she relies on
m arder to achieve her noncourtly goal. The two osten-
Slbly oppos1te toward disclosure, one toward concealment and
25. Set also Bryson, wh? writes that codifications and hehavior manuals "tell
05
hoW
wc to feel and thmk, rhan being a direct dtkription of what we do, in
fact, thmk and feel ... thcre IS a gap between experience and articulahle norms" ( 12).
filE PARADOX OF COURTLY LIFE IN LA PRtNCESSE DE CUVES 2.4 J
. .
1
rion-are never fully resolved.
26
The tension between confession and
can be better parsed in the context of another importanr ear/y
J"""'" h f
"""'"" courtly subtext-t at o sprezzatura.
5prczzarura, or the Arl of Appearing Artless
In Castiglione's Book of the Courtier, Count Ludovico revea/s a new prin-
cipie by which he claims to "avoid affectation in every way possible as rhough

1
were sorne very rough and dangerous reef" (1.26).
27
He calls ir the code
of sprezzatura and glosses it as the capacity to "concea/ all arr and make
wharever is done or said appear ro be wirhout effort and almost without any
rhought about it" (1.26). lt is, as Harry Berger expounds, "an arr that hides
an, rhe cultivated ability to display artful arrlessness ... rhe abiliry to show
16. The mosr obvious exception is rhe reverie scene at Coufommniers. Separa red from
herhusband and seemingly alone {although she is being secrerly warched by Nemours),
princess wraps Nemourss colors around a cane, presumably lose in rhoughr
hlm as she gazes at his portrair (281). This scene appears ro be a volunracy
as well as evidence of a welldeveloped inrerioriry. My reasons for nor exrens1vely
commenting on this example are rwofold. First, it has bcen exhausrive/y commenred
on by other scholars. Sorne of the mosr importanr of rhese commenraries rhe
comributions of Nancy K. Miller ( 15-38), Joan De}ean 39-70), Donna
171-86), Parrick Henry (156-180), Marie-Odile Sweerser (209-224}, and
Desan (104-126) in An Inimitable Example: The Case for the Prmcessede Clet't!S: ed.
Patrick (Washington, DC: Car_holic U Ame_rica

that rhe mtellectual focus on rhis parncular n m\ own analnis.
orher confession in rhe_ rexr. _sorne of 1 ,
10
J
The revene 15 mdeed a momenr m wh1ch rhe she from
reader, the deprh of her feelings in a natural hr is rht exrenr l"tl whic:h
and judgmenr of courr. whar

Jen!l11pml!'nr, Jespre rhr

thJs one example has symb?hze rhe .
5
The n-Jsml tht prinL't')S Lomes
facr rhar own idenriry ned up

eduLJtidn rhJn )hr rn.reJ

to court m che firsr place 1s ro a k_ullv ur sdull.r. JnJ mexrnLaldr
alone her Becil.use 1denn_ry '
5


';;.en her husNndl dnJ
waven meo che Jmperus ro L:onfess everyth'ng.lro h rnKess hr u.Jgt-J dltlil'
eJChortarion ro folluw rhe code uf t:ourrly r e
1
,.11111 l..Jt.J_,erre
by rhis S(;ene. Nor .,;an she bt judged .1rt'
rhe reverie iln audieut:e. N1r only rhe_ re.ldt' - J h r 1 rhe tcnt ,,, hrr ftt t.
rhe princess. By tnalyzing ht"r btha\Jur .uJJJ rc.rp<ru.JflfQI
during chis st:cllt', outsitft' vitwt'l""-"'du mg '' )
tht' game uf n:ading ;md h In uJ m.
27 Other imporranr m;.tmlol_h. . R .
1
-,,.n.,
Wnghr Tbe Pass1on.s oftln Afm,/cJt.OI
1
)o,l)
md Th:mas Ut"kkrr. Tht c;,/IS llumlmnk lto( .
NoRA MARTIN PETERSON
that one is not a\1 put into le.arning how
to show that one 15 not showmg etforr. For. rhe pnncess, rhen,
as Henri Coulet writes in Le Rommz usqu a la revolutum, "la biensanc
n'inrerdit Madame de Clfoves d'aimer Nemours, elle lui interdit seulemem d:
le montrer!" (259).
2
Q Though in her debut at courr the princess presents herself
as a girl hent on remaining virruous, she decides at a certain poim rhat she
must givc up her hope of renouncing her love for Nemours: "Elle ne se flatta
plus de l'esprance de ne lepas aimer; elle songea seulemenr a ne lui en donner
jamais aucune marque" ( 194 ).
10
Rather than refuse to play the game of courtliness, as many critics ha ve
suggested, the princess realizes the need to play according to rhe rules if she is
ro succeed in distinguishing herself. Sprezzatura fulfills her need to conceal at
the same time as its frenzy to produce signs makes any kind of interpretation
difficult.ln Re11atssancc Self-Fashioning, Stephen Greenblatt suggests that "the
single self ... is a rhetorical construct designed to enhance the speaker's power,
allay his fear, disguise his need" (141). Once the princess learns that nothing
around her is as ir seems, she becomes increasingly interested in not seeming
what she is. She devores much of her energy to hiding her true feelings for
Nemours in public.l' The obsession with presenting herself in a certain way
corresponds to Elias's study of courtly restraints, but it also reflects a more
general crux of early modern thoughr.l
2
Members of elite society ''are acurely
28. See \X'ayne Rehhorn's comprehensive srudy, goes imo much greater depth
than pm.sihle here: Courtly Performance: Masking and Festiuity in Castiglione's
Ruok of the Courtier !Detroit: Wayne State UP, 1978), especially 38ff. See also John
D.lyons, lnterpret.nion, and Paradox: La Princesse de Cli,res," Romamc
Rei'ew 72 (1981 ): 383-400.
29. court does not forhid Madame de C\eves from loving Nemours; it forbids
her from sholt'ing her \ove" (259). Th1s afrer Monsieur de Cleves's dearh;
henLeforth, nothing forhids the prmcess from her love for Nemours. That she
<:ontmues to withhold her consent toa rel<H1onsh1p mdJCates rhat she does not cometo
tu\ly operare withm the wnttxt of sfnezzatura. lnsread, she continues to split herself
hetween the two of and .l duty ro a self rhat supersedes the masks
of even it in rhe
30. d1d not indulgt m the hope nf not loving [Nemoursj; she
termmed to gwe tum no further of 1t" {40).
3
1. When lt \S when she her actions will not he e.lsily dJs-
by othen . The two most nota hit: mclude thc case of the tournament ,md
dunn11,the rt:verie. however, are \'oiumary that reveal more
her .way of exprt:'>'>ing somcthmg know'> ahour herself, and not invoh.Jn-
<.onfr'>Siom, wh1ch appe.u '>pOnt.lnt:ouslv and which teach the
abuut her!>t!f she would not otherw1se havt: ud .tc.:ess to
12
Jdentlfit:'> the nature of court with tht: Nn-.. 1
aM:matJIJO with the puhh<. sphere (.lSJ ).
ht be called 'identilication' in a broader sense: the tendency
,..,,reofwhat mlg tside the self to one's own self-image" (Moriarty 24). The
h what rs ou . . .
self cannot exist without an aud1ence to Judge Its performance.
"'," k. d of interiority depends on exposure? How can the self make
81 what '" d d f 1
"f. something independent when tts extstence epen s on success u
sd mto . .
rward proecnon.
""rhe kind of self-fashioning posited by Greenblatt and others shares certain
.-haracrerisrics with involuntary confessions of the flesh. Harvesting any kind
of knowledge from an involuntary confession depends on exposure-such
wnfessions are triggered by an audience (for who would ever blush alone?)-
,md they result in (positive or negative) judgment. Thus involuntary confes-
sions of the flesh participa te both in the confessional discourse and in the game
of sprezzatura at court. Only by exposing oneself to the judgmental public
cJn an individual exteriorize what hides within. ParadoxicaiJy, ths s exactly
ll'hat individuals hope not to do. In a world of dissimulation, the threat of
exposure "made lpeople] more aware of how reputations could be produced
and appearances maintained. The art which concealed art was exposed
for the world to see" (Bates 355).
34
An implicit understanding among weJJ-
members of courr revealed an awareness of rhe performative selves
which they engaged. Seemingly a contradiction, self-fashioning at court
emanded consranr self-control, rhe result of which was self-estrangemenr
{nor

The princess must consrantJy be aware of her own
presenratJon; ro hide her true feelings, she musr be cognizant of what rhey
that everything and everyone is only rhe semblance of a
construct of self might appear pessimistic, bur ir forces an intimare
apprecarion of whar kind of self ro presenr ro the world .
. cerrain momenrs, rhe princess confesses her rrue feelings-willingly, as
of rhe r_ev_erie ar Coulommiers (during which she is acrually
b ed), or unwdlmgly, as afrer reading rhe lerrer she rhinks ro be wnrten
. Y
1
Nemours (at which poinr she musr account for che consequen ... es of the
ousy she acknowledges). In_ these rwo examples, in parri ... uJar,
l e. reader sees the heroine of the text commg ro w1th her own smgu-
but _simulraneously need ro uphold either che modt'"
nfess10n or rhe mode of dissimulatwn or horh. She c.mnor hreak tree
she recognizes her optiOJ_ls and hre.1k free
rom hoth modes. By repeatedly stresstng her smgul.tnf):, she mststs on hemg
3\.
3
: Dr.:twillg thc \"\lllllt'dlon bctWt'tn tht nuht'U ot r/w .mJ rht: srrut'tun nt tht'
J\lt'frllll lh.JI. "hoth lUff ,nJ (t'"( Tt'\'tlht' ,)fOUIIJ .Jppt".JT
\ <. \t"l" (
146
NoRA MARTIN PETERSON
judged differently. Still, she engages in dissimulation throughout the text, and
her voluntary confessions are, although smgular, stlll the products of premedi
rared self-represenrarion. The true place ro look for the princess's interior .f
one wishes ro rruly separare her from her self-presentation, is in rhe
sions she makes involuntarily, the moments in which she interrupts her public
self-making quest. The spontaneous outbursts do not belong to the masking
procedures (although they are often mt? a system of reading), and
rhey are marks of truth m an

unstable world of signs,
rhetorical construcnons, and observed confess10ns.
Whr would rhe princess come ro care so much about matching her behavior
to a of legibility, when she previously sought to avoid the web of gal-
lantry? Joan Dejean explains thar alrhough the princess is desperately rrying
w eke out an identity, ir must stand up ro courrly scrutiny. S he rnusr constantly
.. pretend to look one way while looking in another in an attempt ro glimpse
the truth camouflaged by a fa<;ade of codified behavior" (891-92). What kind
of interioriry can exisr when rrurh is sornerhing that can be produced, and
when rhe self is already ried up in quesrions of performance and presentation?
Carherine Bares sheds light on rhe exrent to which representation and self are
inextricable in early modero court culture. Handbooks, she writes, are
norhing less than a detailed programme of their production, laying
down exacrly how rhe appearance of courtliness is rhetorically to
be consrructed and maintained. Courtliness depends on the
effecriveness of the representation, on rhe ability ro persuade, ro
master the an of rhetoric. lt depends on the consistency and plausi-
biliry of the surface narrative .... The court is relentlessly shown to
be a literary construction-actively produced with words .... the
coun does not exist except in such representations. (350)
point in insisring on rhe arrificialiry represented in rhese conducr books
15
to show that in a court that depends wholly on maintaining appearances,
and in which identity is tied to the attempt ro appear favorably, it is diffic.ulr
to keep track uf the truth of rhe self. lt is difficulr ro know thar one is acung
one way but thinking and feeling another and that one must pay attention ro
?oth if one is to simultaneously cultivare good reputaran as well as
m MK&ety. What happem. when readings of the body are increasingly
theonzed," rhat !., when they are more inrerested in represenring than in rrut
36
K. Horowuz write!> that "the body announces exactly what the

nbhttratt:. The mark of erotic passum is the complete inabiliry to disguise

11
'

of thi!> silences, blushes, self-cons!:IO
ht: of the mnd'!.lo!>S of control" (58).
LIFE IN LA PRINCFSSf m: CU. V t .. \
x oF couRTLY
fMEPARADO
d h
. mulripliciry of readings and behavioral
nuals an t etr Th f
, conduct ma lf nsciously overdetermined gen re. ere ore
ake up a se -co f, . h 1
nprions m h . s such as involuntary con esswns r emse ves,
d d on ot er stgn '
.nrmusr epen . b ut rhe self-making process. More than sprezzatura,
' nformatton a
0
. d fl

1
ns provide important instghts m ro reactwns an re ec-
1 nrary con essto b h h r
'"'
00
revent slips rhe princess learns a out r e sttuarwns r a
,.,Bytrymgtop ' h b h lf
"' h When she does slip, she gleans sorne trur a out erse ; ar
JUst erro S! p. h T
rhesame time, she must figure out how ro inscribe the slip into t e ctvt tztng
rrocess.
Reading the Princess
Although involuntary conlessions of che llesh most commonly cake place in
public,thisdoes not mean that they are always noticed. In a good many situa-
uons, the princess blushes or otherwise slips in public, but La fa yette explicirly
pornts out that no one was paying attention. By emphasizing that the prin-
with her slip, the author draws the reader's attention: "Si elle
eur pomr t dans l'obscurit, elle et eu peine a cachee son trouhle et son
eronnemem de voir entrer M. de Nemours conduit par son mari" (228). r Or,
rnanothercase "M d Cl" . . d b h
pour ell ', e se mJ.t a genoux evant son Jt er, par on eur
e,elle n avaot pas le JOur a u vosage" (253)."
The pnnc 1" 1
emb ess s ops so ent y, revealing only ro rhe reader that she feels both
rhe and shame. Silent slips provide a merarexruaJ alrernative ro
notico ed lnterpretations one might find in the handbooks. Since no one
the h er tr?uble, her slips are not codifi.able, but readers can easiJy discern
pr behmd her discretion. The princess's secret involuntary confessions
ti ov e readers with emocional feedback abour her rrue fedings at the same
as they supersede the civilizing process. Lafayerre's desion to give
p a access to rhese slips indicares rhar involuntary confessions of rhe t1c-sh
e more useful rhe self rhan other kind. -4o They medi-
rhe ba:ween the competmg of rruth and If rhe serves as
. berween C1v1hzmg process and t:ontesson, rhen mvolunt.Jr)'
l:Onfessons of the flesh are rhe weapons used hy each side.
;--::----
. Nothmg but the Jarkness t""nahled ht""r tu hide her anJ surpnsr .u SC'Cif1M
Monsieur de Nemours hrought intn her room hy her husband" (5'1).
dl Clhes kneh Jown bv rhe side of rhe bed in suo.:h .J thar, torru
nately tur her, her tace wm,, in thl" d.uk;, (7.l).
]'-J. ln)l.e Crusm.111 Wunml"rs bdieve!> that such momt"nb .tlluw tht"" ro -fulluw
each l>tep ut her and tu fully sharr- rhe emorion.1lunpdo.r" (50 J.
40. One nuKht rememher, 1:-y way uf o.ontrasr, rhdf reddt:n; Jo nur ha"e .... -,.r- ' rhe
word!> ut the princess's cunft:ss1un tu her husband.
14R
NoRA MARTIN PETERSON
The incorporation of into her actions a. shift in the
L:ess's education and in her ro best functton tn coun culture.
lnvoluntary confessions prov1de mr_o moments of exposure-rhey
show readers rhat she is 10 the game of.sign-making bur
also generating her own opm10ns and feehngs about the available to
her. By giving rhe reader full access ro even her secret mvoluntary confes-
sions, Lafayette inrentionally carves out a path of m terna! for her
young heroine, rhus turnin.g away from, rather than relymg on, the preceprs
of seventeenth-cenrury soc1ety.
The princess's passion for Nemours culminares in a final showdown-after
privileging sprezzatura over confession for much of rhe second half of rhe
rexr, rhe princess decides ro remove severa! of her masks and reverr ro verbal
honesry, confessing her rrue feelings ro Nemours himself. One might rhink
rwice, however, befare concluding thar the self undernearh rhese masks is a
clearly defined, deliberare interior. Firsr of all, the scene of rhe confession ro
Nemours in many ways mirrors rhe earlier confession ro her husband. The
princess hegins by insisting on the singularity of her impending words: "Je
vous parlerai] avec une sincrit que vous trouverez malaisment daos les per-
sonnes de mon sexe ... ,]e sera apparemment la seule fois de m a vie queje me
donnerai la libert de vous les sentimenrsl faire paraitre" (301, 305-6).
41
The
princess indkates that she is confessing her true feelings for Nernours freely,
hut qualifies her liherty by stating her resol ve never ro appear thus befare him
again.
42
The passage is rnarked by various involunrary confessions of rhe flesh.
41. "! will wirh a frankness rhat you will not always find in women. this
probahly wtll be the only time in my life that 1 shall rake the liberty of letting you see
them )my feelings]" (101, 103).
42. As m the first aveu, it is importa m ro note rhe emphasis on gender here; Lafayette
no other womJn has made such a statement. The problems of gender
become thtcker when one considers that courtly manuals were constructed largely
and by_ in such cases in which advice on decoding women 's signs of the body IS
glven, lt matt_er of men reading women. Unfortunately, 1 do not ha ve rhe
here to fui\ y the implications of gendered confessions of the tlesh, nor 15 my
argumentan mherently gendered one. However, excellent work has airead y been done
10
the actions (or inacnons) throughout, and especially a_t rhe end
of, dle text from an explicitly feminine per!.pective. Faith Beasley has wntten that
""creates a complex dialectic between the hisroncal 'background' and the
.. her plausible wirhin rhe economy uf rhe_
Kg to her concept of female most
d fncuses o_n the revene '>cene at Coulommters the
of (42ff), and Juan Dejean draws rhe connecnon
comroven.tal ,
1
:nd that ''hoth Lafayeue'!> authonal ol
for her heroine are .J.ttempts ro avoad th
THE PARADOX OF CouRTLY LIFE IN LA PR!Net:SSE vE CLtws
2
49
When Nemours first appears in the room, "Elle rougit, et essaya de cachee sa
eur" (300).4
1
When she lea ves, her uncle the V1dame "la vit si trouble

n'osa lui parler" (309).4
4
La ter that evening, "Mme de Clves n'tait pas
qu d'en trouver {reposj; ce lui tair une chose si nouvelle d'tre sortie de
;;rte contrainte qu'eJJe s'tair impose .. .. Elle fut tonne de ce qu'elle avair
fair; elle s'en repentit; elle en eut de la joie: tous ses sentiments raient plens
de rrouble et de passion" ( 31 0).
45
lt is diflicult to capture the complexity of the
systems at work here. On the one hand, the princess appears as a young lady
who has worked hard ro make up her mind about Nemours, choosing notro
be wirh him despite the dissipation of all socieral obsracles. Many scholars
ha ve lingered on this point,
46
commenting on her strength of mind in know-
ing that she would never be happy with Nemours, rhus deciding to sacrifice
ererything "] un devoir qui ne subsiste que dans [son} imagnation" (309). .r
On the other hand, andas many others ha ve argued, rhe princess shows weak-
ness of character by not giving her relationship with Nemours. which is
meant ro be, a chance, and instead choosing to wirhdraw and fade
NoRA MARTIN PETERSON
Both readings, while va lid, miss a crucial the is still attemptin
the impossihle, to balance both modes of. d1scourse. The princess
her feelings to Nemours, but the courtly vmce of rerninds her this
is dangerous hehavior; she hlushes at the same as she tries ro hide her
agitati?n feels at the end of rhe1r reveals 3 deeply
troubled interior, an mtenor torn between passwn, between expos-
ing and concealing. The words she speaks Illummate her decision regarding
Nemours, and rhey show readers the path of where she has been and where
she plans ro go. As Stephanie Merrim writes, the princess must
constantly shuttle back and forth between self-control and contain-
ment, and explosion or "decontainment," all the while straining ro
assert lucidity and self-vigilance. This struggle within the Princess
is,ofcourse, the very core ofthe novel.

1t is true rhat the princess is almost perpetually engaged with the struggle
berween the models of "containment" and "lucidity." In the text's concluding
pages, one mighr assume she has reached sorne kind of balance in her resolu-
tion and subsequent withdrawal. Yet, the involuntary confessions of the flesh
that accompany her words during and after the second aveu show usa young
lady still troubled hy passions, still learning from her slips, still reflecting on
how she mighr reconcile two conflicting desires.
concept and, ar the same time, a commonplace" (80). She notes LaFayerte's refusalto
te\1 readers whether the princess's feelings for Nemours actually disappear with time,
but h.ighlighrs the heroine's succe!>s in attaining "la mort des dsirs" (96).
49. Sume !>Chulars hold the middle ground; for example, Marie-Odile Sweerser believes
that the pnnce1os\ selfhood lie!> m a self-conscmusness of the things that set her apart
from other of court (222).
5
0. ln ... A J>ruposal for Queering the J>ast," J>ierre Zoberman uses the princess's
behavlor m the final with Nemours to draw a distinction between the early
modero gay queer. He defines the latter as "the calling into quesrion uf traditional,
heteronormat1ve definittons uf gender role!> m various historical contexrs" (3
5
l The
he writes, rever!oes gender roles by saying all the things Nemours
and.do and of the things that a woman should (44). Calling her a
(43), Zoberman seelo the second aveu as the moment in which the
femm,inJ out a space o.f her a paradoxical space, distinct from hoth arfe"
51
. In al t1me, queer lodgings tu end her story.and he.r

the man mvesttgaton uf early modern women w:ters, thc tekl
pe'uves ( 130-31.) and conclude!o that rhe princess s
The vanous uf a complete w1th a !tense uf self
un her own

chall.engt!> the pnnces!> faces force her [() "forge "emotllmal

depth .. (
122
.

m a character who, in the end, emerges w1th

. N mours does not result in or come from a self that is unaffected
Refusmg

does not creare a Cartesian or courtly sense of mastery. The

ro herself that her desire ro creare a certain self-image is bui/t

P"'"" a h lf 1 h' h d voir rhat exists onJy as one to erse . n t JS sense, t e prmcess sepa-
on' h:rself from the actions and reactions prescribed by courtly behavior. On
hand, however, she bases this self-proposed devoir on her reaction
:orhe letter and on the examples of other women. She predices that Nemours
wi/1 be unfaithful, and realizes that she does not want to feel jealously "com-
mes les a u tres femmes." Her decision and behavior are at the same 6me deeply
psychological-she separa tes herself from the devoirs of court-and a subject
deeply torn between the modes of confession and court. She builds her sin
guiar se/1-revelation about her future feelings on the behavioral models she
has observed and, at many moments, partidpated in. None of these interior
!ayers culminare in a coherent whole. Lafayette's rext mirrors its own hero-
shuftlng between systems of con troJ to carefully construct an ephemeral,
smgular, illusionary representation. The princess confesses ro and conceals
from Nemours. She withdraws ro a con vent-a confessonaJ space-bur only
for haU. the year. Any kind of definitive reading is masked by the inherent
duplicJtJes of the two codes at work wirhin rhe rexr irself. Only involuntary
confessions of the flesh, in their silent exposure, offer deeper insighrs inro
the dual systems at work. If these slips do not reveaJ a weJI-formed self, chey
are no.nerheless distilled signs of rrurh, unmarred by rhe compering codes of
courrlmess and confession. Involunrary confessions of che nesh rrouble che
modes of rhinking in every way-rhey disrupt rhe viliz-
mg process and rhicken che already complex srructure of confession. None-
theless, rhey provide rhe reader wirh unique insighr inro whar goes on behind
the scenes of eirher mode; as essentiaiJy incapable of illusion or dJssimuldtion,
they trigger more than justa codifiable reading of rhe passions. Borh produces
of and parricipants in rhe modes of confession and dissimu/arion, invuluntary
confessions of the flesh crea te rhe reflecrion and know/edge necessary ro func-
tion within a highly srylized, highly judgmenra/ culture and provide rhe keys
to building rhe nascent self.
Unll't>rSity o/ Nebraska. L1 ,obr
Wonh
A.lliston, April. "What rhe Prim:ess J.dt; or, Exemplary Faulb m LJ p,.mce:e
de <:leves." Vi,.tue's 1-..mlts: (.'onesp,m.Jen,es m l:"l.:htet>nlh-CmtMry Bnt-
ish and .,.e,ch WomenS hdmn. l'P, IYY6 .. U-_..,.6.
Bates, C.atherine. "l.iterarure and rhe Cuun." The Camh,.,,Jge H1story vi
Modt'rtl f.ngluh l.lttm.ltun!. h.f. lJdHd l.oewrnsum dnJ Jdnd ,1\.ludkl:
CunhriJ.e: Camhru.fMe lJI',lUOl .. J4.l-71.
........_ Fallll. 11...-, Al-:r. ""-) fidiool .-1 M.....,;,.. iJo Sft..,.
WIIIrf Now llnmswid: Rutgtts UP, 1990.
Bmid>ou. Paul. MoNits .... G.....l Siick. Paris: GaUimard, 1948.
BuJ. Hart1. Spruanua ancl tbr Abom.::r of Gracr." BooA, of 11M
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............. irom of G..a: Spn:ullllll.-1 S..S,iciort iJo Taro
R....as-u c-tay llools Stanford: Snnford UP. 20001. 294-307.
11roob., Pttn. Sf-iiltr G.alt iJo Lav .-1 Lil""'-.
<::mcago: U oi Cl>iago P, 2000.
m. c-tay 10 CMiity: ClMrrpg Co<ks of eo..dMct in rly
Modtno Oxford: <larmdon. 1998.
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884-902.
Drscams, Rmr. tk L'AJ.u. 1649. Ed. Genevihe Rodis-Lrwis.
J'aris, librairio Philosophiquc, 1955.
DiPi<ro, Thomas. Tndbs ad OiminaJ Passioou: The ErooiNtio" of
lb. frmdr Noo<d, 1569-1791. Swdord: Swdord UP, 1'192.
Elia, CiviJiV,tg l'roass; Sociog....ric aJid Psycbogmetic !JI-
1939. Ed. Eric Dunning. joban Goudsblom and Srepheo
M.......U. Trans. Edmund jephrott. Malden: Blackwell, 1'194.
__ . The :um Soci<ty. Trans. Edmund jepbcon. Oxford, UK: Basil
8lackwell, 1'183.
Fam, !)Oio:holas. U<mrreste 011, L'art tk p/dire la CONrt. 1630. Ed.
M. Mag<ndie. Paris: Presses Universi'"ires de Francc, 1925. ARTFL
19%.22 JundOII.
__ . Tbe bonest fflml.: or. Tbe art to please in COIITt. Trans. E. G. London:
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limard, 1976.
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New Yorlt: Raodom Housc:, 1978.
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2ud ed. Clcago: U ol Chicago P, 2005.
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tbe Frnu:b Moralist Writns. Columbus: Ohio State UP. 1977
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perrrMoon
uNE PEINTURE MORALE: INTERTEXTUALITY
IN CLOUZOT'S LES DIABOLIQUES
F
ilm critics and scholars never tire of comparing the work of Henri-
Georges Clouzot with that of Alfred Hitchcock. Despite the tenacity of the
comparison, critics rarely discuss the two directors' artitudes roward literary
rexts. 8oth adapted sorne of their best-known Jilms from contemporary
popular ficrion, with an insoucance about fidelity ro rhe original source
material. Hitchcock, furthermore, rnade ir a matter of principie ro avoid
adapting canonized works of literature. In his interviews with
Truffaut, he said that he would never make a film of Crime and Punishment,
beca use the novel is "someone else's achievemenr." He goes on, though, to
offer a less reason, invoking rhe autonomy of the lirerary work
of art: "In Dostoyevsky's novel, there are many, many words and aH of rhem
ha ve a function" (Hitchcock 71-72) .
. Clouzot's approach ro adaptaran does nor presuppose such a
h1erarchy of lirerary texts. He based Manan ( 1949) on the no-..:eJ by Abbe
Prvost, setting rhe film in France during che Liberaran era m Palesrme
before partition. Not only did Clouzor alter rhe srory's serrmg, he
transformed Prvost's proto-Romanric tale inro a
Manan was however: one of Clouzor's /ess successtul films, and
he e hose no; ro follow' rhe posrwar fashion for making tilms inspireJ by
known works of French licerature.It be.'l misrake, ro ":
0
1
7'-_ %
1
e
that Clouzot rhe filmmaker Josr m /rer;uure, .lp.Jrr trom ;;a l';
. One ot h1'> he.-.r-known ms.
Works of contempora_ry romans po uters.
1

11
'dJunt plus h\ rht>
Diaboliques ( 1955), IS rhe m-e ( J mMs N.w .. q.J .. :. Bur che
crime-ficrio_n ot In< rhe ..
film shares 1ts nrle wr.h 3 ..
1
hom Clouzor sh.w:d .J tor ...
writer Jules Barht')' J Aurevlll}, .".
1
t ." r rhc
0
lt'/llll che hhn
of human we3kness ;llld dtpr.lvlr} Atte h'.. rt "llnc pt'mrure eM
the B<lrbty I.JU'dlt Jonm l'horreur Je ...
toujours assez . ..u,. '""''
choses qu'c!lt rttrar.:t'. .. . . . l 111 rroJu .. rwn ro
1
fX j
This ,onws off .t .... t r.lf ur J ._. .tn. so tnuh.Jr ftl
thnllt-r in whiLh lite

hlm, 1 ' .''IJI,mc' ,/cl.l prur

lt wt mlt.l stcm more
1
i 1
PERRY MooN
11953
. With respect to Barhey d'Aurevilly's stories, Jacques Petit suggests
that thc preface represents the aurhor's. smcere understand!ng of .his. own
work while also serving a more pragmauc purpose. Barbey d Aurevdly s Les
Diaboliqr<es first appeared in the early years of the Third Republic, under
President Patrice MacMahon's conservanve reg1me of Ordre mora/e. The
preface, and particularly the words quoted by Clouzot, might have been
written in anticiparion of rhe scandal and the prosecutlon that the salac10us and
violent stories were to provoke (Petit 247). Clouzot himself was no stranger
to scandal and prosecution, having been put on trial during the puration for
his Occupation-era film, Le Corbeau (1942), and banned from making films
for tV/O vears. However, he faced no threat of censure for Les Diaboliques.
to Susan Hayward, Clouzot chose to open Les Diaboliques wirh
the quotation because he was obliged to pay homage to Barbey d'Aurevilly
as a condition for using the title (14). That may be the case. However, the
conjunction of a lirerary allusion wirh the metaphor of narrative film as a
painting offers too many possibilities ro ser aside lighrly.
Clouzot was. of course, very familiar with the world of painting. After Les
Diaboliques, his next film was an innovarive documentary about his friend
Pablo Picasso.ln Le Mysti>re Picasso ( 1956), the two artists srare as one of rheir
objectives to "montrer les tableaux qui sont sous le tablea u." Taking seriously
Clouzot's description of Les Diaboliques as "une peinture . morale," this
artide probes and finds the paintings beneath rhe painting. In his review of
rhe film on its initial release, Andr Bazin suggesred rhat Les Diaboliques,
by virtue of its dramatic construction, offers the viewer one film imposed on
of another. 1 want to go farther and explore the relations between Les
and other texts ro which the film a Iludes either explicitly, as in rhe
t!tle and prologue, or more subtly. The most obvious relarion is to the novel
by B?ileau and Narcejac. Christopher Lloyd and Judith Mayne ha ve already
transformations from Celle qui n'tait plus ro Les Diaboliques. In
arncle 1 want show how, in making these transformations, Clouzot's
film other hterary works, one of which is suggested by the film's title
and prologue, proximate to the film itself. Finally, I discuss
how one of hterary mtertexts, in turn, points ro Clouzot's earlier, and
very film Le Corbeau. However, the purpose of this article is
not to catalog intertextual references but ro understand Clouzot's
of Les Diabofiques 3!:i a species of moral discourse.
d Thls artlde no claim to theoretical innovation. Roberr Sta m has long
a d tht- apphcation of the concept of intertextuality to the srudy of film
In trying
10
adapration studies from a narrow focus on
e (t e degree of correspondence hetween the source text and the cinema
tmpha!:oiles that film, as a multitrack medium with a history
0
m. own, mevnab\y alludes to various mher texts and discourses. Clouzot's
INTERTEXTUALITY IN CtouzoT's LEs DtAnour;uES
2
57
Manan offers an interesting example. In an early scene, Desgrieux and Manon
enjoy rheir firsr passwnare k1ss m rhe bombed-our remains of a Catho!ic
church. Using montage, Clouzot creares the impression rhar rhe starues 0 { rhe
saints are watching rhe couple's embrace. The scene recalls Sergei Eisensrein's
use of monrage ro animare statues in October as well as jean Cocreau's more
recenr film, La Be/le et la Bte, in which the partly animared caryarids observe
rhe proragonists inside the Beast's castle. lntertextual moments like rhese ha ve
become more salient thanks ro rhe work of Stam and others.
Stam would place adaptarion studies under the aegis of whar he calls
"inrertexrual dialogism" (64). The felicity of the consrrucrion aside, Sram's
terminoJogy raises an important question: are aH relations berween one rexr
and another necessarily "diaJogical" in any meaningful sense of rhe word?
With respect ro the church scene in Manan, iris a fairJy innocent metaphor to
say that the voices of Prvost, Eisenstein, and Cocteau meer in Clouzor's fil'?.
To say thar rhey meet dialogically would be a hyporhesis demanding analym
beyond a convincing demonstration of similarities. The hypothesis
require further specification of rhe concept of the dialogical. Mikhaii
was a gifted and prolific thinker, but nor a sysremaric Consequenrly, hJS
key concept is protean and resises a comprehensive definmonh. . d
5
. Id irself be '-. aracrerJze a
Stam's own interpretation of Bakhrm cou h pprovmgly re1.:alls
"multivoiced," even muJrinarional. In rhe_ lal/acv," before
the American New Crirics' injuncrion r _e ot'che .Juthor
eliding what he calls the "Bakhrinian downgradng
as the orchestrator of preexisring discourses ot diKourse .. _F-581. It
of the author in favor of a pervasive incerprer.uion ot Bakhcm,
applied in a rigorous fashi_on, rbis a"rudllJ resrmr rhe ..
which is by no means JimJted ro Sram.' srares th.Jtdis .. :ourse"an
of the conce r of the dialogi(al. ot concept ot ro
. P_ 'd l However, rhe f" B.Jkhrin. dlsuJurse
as well md1vl ua _ he imporrarJt pomr, (osmon ro n ... ir poss,hle
Foucault s r,na/IN U'l/1, a

e\ urrer.:wn w
embodies. a A JalogK
1
S4; emph.1.o.1s .JdJedJ . ."or
to reacr

o/ .tre know.Jble to .rhc re_.Jder.
it responds (1 :(
11
thaf rht" .Jurh<:.' mrtnrimls 1s ro J,_,.;.:ern
does Bakhtlll d

( ..,3-... 4J. ,
On the
10
dJ!<>p.Jr.tl(t' ,',c.un\ ork. .1re che_\
what

nor of rlw ".1111(epr uf rht Ja/ogK.JI.I Yo.JI,JC
The-'>C .. c ' _tulkr rl.\lr thc ,ruJl ,,t nlft'rft.'r.ru.JIItY lll 1 t'S Dl..lbollf".t"
mellnr ro ,,rr l1t" rh: \
01
rd.Jrumsh1ps wh1le norm,.; thar
ro ke<P .. :,l n rfu r;.tkt/1 tur .md thd_t the wdl
U.'.rh rh.u _..._11J, lnow rurn ro (./ouLot s hlm.


-"l""'
;8
PERRY MooN
Earlier 1 .alled Lrs Diaboliqurs a suspense thriller and noted that both
rhe ..::rime and rhe motives hehind ir are to mov1e A man
and his mistress conspire ro kili the man s w1fe so that they can hve freely off
of her wealrh. However, this descriprion suggests a far more pedestrian film
than we see in Lrs Diaboliques. Iris no exaggeration to say that the film has
one of rhe most perfecrly constructed plots in film hisrory. The film's impact
depends 00 a well-execured plot twist that still has the to take viewers
oH-guard roday. A discussion of rhe film, therefore, reqUires more summary
than is normallv offered.
Clouzot and his collaborators on the screenplay departed from the novel
bv sening rhe film in a small privare boarding school for boys on the outskirts
of Pars. The school is owned and run by a couple, Cristina (Vera Clouzot)
and Michel Delasalle (Paul Meurisse). Cristina is well aware-as is everyone
else at the school, induding the pupils-that Michel is having an affair with
the school's other female teacher, Nicole Horner (Simone Signoret). Generally
abusive toward everybody, Michel treats the two women with physical
brutality. The first time we see Nicole, she is wearing sunglasses to hide a black
eye. early scene offers a rare acknowledgment of marital rape in a
film of this period. Quite understandably, Cristina and Nicole conspire to kili
Michel. They sedare him, drown him in a bathtub, and then dump his body in
the school's murky swimming pool to make the murder look like an accident
or suicide. For most of the film, we watch the two women carry out their plot
and then live with its unnerving aftermath as Michel's body fails to resurface
and then disappears entirely from the pool. There follow other indications that
Michel sti\1 inhabits the environs of Paris and St. Cloud.
Les Diaboliques foregrounds the "hypothesis-forming activity" that
Bordwe\1 says partly constitutes every viewer's experience of narrative
cmema (37-39). Here the viewer, along with Cristina and Nicole, formulares
dtfferem questions that we expect the film ro answer. Who is tormenting these
women? Michel's ghost? Or did Michel somehow manage ro survive the night
submersed Has someone stolen Michel's body, perhaps as part
of a scheme? In the film's clmax, Cristina awakens in the middle of
mght to i_nvestigate mysterious noises and strange shadows. S he eventuallr
dscovers M1chel's body, which eerily rises from her bathtub, causing her fratl
hean_to finally g1ve out. After she is dead, we learn that both the killing and
the ds_appearance of the body are an elaborare hoax perpetrated by Michel
and to provoke Cristina's death.
No can substirute for seeing the film. However, in his review o
Us D_rabolrques, Bazin gives a remarkably cogent description of the viewer's
of the pl_or twist. He notes that the film does not merely
Y_ of Mchel 5_ d1sappearance rather, the revelaran of the consplr_aq
MJchel an_d Ncole gives the film .. un sens nouveau, c'est comme SI un
autre film renan.sau de cene rvlation" !179\.lt is difficult ro think of orhe
films rhar achieve whar Bazin suggesrs for Les Diaboliques. Famous plor rwisrs
in more recenr films, such as The Crying Game (1992), The Usual Suspects
( 995), and The Sixth Sense ( 1999), re ve al imporranr informaran abour one
0
rhe characters, but they do not creare a new film alongside rhe one rhar we
have been watching. The nearest example is Hitchcock's Vertigo ( 1958), a/so
based on a novel by Boileau and Narcejac. However, Vertigo /acks the economy
of Les Diaboliques, since Hitchcock practically does give rhe viewer a new
film, through a brief flashback followed by a voice-over narraran. Likewise,
Hitchcock's Psycho (1960) requires a lengthy psychological disquisition
w make sense of its famous twist. By contrast, viewers o{ Les Diaboliques
understand what has been going on as soon as rhey see Nicole and Michel
embrace to celebrare Cristina 's death.
A comparison of the twist in Les Diaboliques with those in other films
might be an interesting study in irself. Bur rhis moment in the film is crirical
for another reason. I want ro foHow up on Bazin's "comme si" and discuss rhe
twist as the articulario o of rwo films. In film 1, Cristina and Nicole conspire to
murder Michel and rhen rry ro cope wirh the puzzling consequences of rh_eir
crime; in film 2, Michel and Nicole conspire ro kili Cristina in order ro _hve
off of her fortune, alrhough rheir plans are immediarely foiled by a reured
police detective named Inspector Fichet Charles Vanel). To be dear, wha_r 1
a m calling film 2
5
not simply rhe lasr few minutes of che film, buc che enr_m
film as reinterprered by rhe viewer. In waKhing film 1, we the premJse
thar wife and misrress are allied againsr Michel che
1
. . . h h h r rhe earllesc .scenes, r e Ol.. mg
0
ean-P1erre Berrm-Magh1t . s own e a m ;H.:tuall align Nio:ole and Miel
the actors and the composmon of rhe f nr J thilt Bercin-Maght's
against Cristina (280). Ir s, of m cerms
0
m-
reading of rhese scenes_ is so chese rwo films each emke differenr
In the resr of chis rhe film 's genre. ti/m 2 il genre
intertexrs. For example, m rerm
1
. arlv :\n d.Jhorare ho<Jx
thar has no na me bur is .._heilt her our Jn mhented
designed to frighten a nd onsrage. The .._anomcal example Js Paul
has rnany m tilm .mJ tht c.uwry ( 192 7). Fdm che
Le ni 's silenr horror gen re ot rhe
other a !>erie!> ot mnr_er_J<Jll!> happc-nm,.::s,
... rhere are pilr<lllels
enher a_ f
111
genr-r'"- w more JptJ. h. tilm's riele ., 11J pn11ogue. One ot
,,nJ "' rr-,.r t>VcJke .\ r t
PERRY MooN
Barhey d'Aurevilly's six tales, "Le Bonheur dans le crime," teUs that story of
a count, Serlon de Savigny, and h!S nnstress, Hauteclatre Stassm, who kiU the
count's wife and live happily ever after, unmolested by law or conscience. Less
imaginative than Nicole and Michel, Serian and Hauteclaire choose the more
expedient route of poisoning the countess. As in Clouzot's film, the murder
depends on Hauteclaire feigning loyalty to the victim. Disguised as a faithful
chambermaid named Eulalie, it is she who "accidentally" poisons the countess.
And beca use Eulalie is a live-in servant, "Le Bonheur dans le crime," like Les
Dialmliques, offers the scandal of "le concubinage dans la maison conjugale"
(Barbey d'Aurevilly 147).
lnteresringly, Clouzot's transformarion of the Boileau-Narcejac novel
borh evokes and suppresses recognition of "Le Bonheur dans le crime" asan
intertext for rhe film. In Celle qui n'tait plus, a traveling salesman, Ravinal,
works wirh his mistress, a doctor named Lucienne, to murder his wife,
Mireille, and make it look like a suicide in the same manner as in the film.
In the novel's final chapter, we learn that Lucienne and Mireille ha ve been
surrepritious lesbian lovers and have carried out the hoax ro provoke Ravinal's
suicide. By redistriburing the gender roles, Clouzor's film more clearly evokes
.. Le Bonheur dans le crime." Yet, by delaying the viewer's recognition of the
real murder plot long past the film's title sequence and opening prologue, the
srructure makes the parallels with Barbey d'Aurevilly's story less obvious than
they might be.
The relations between the film's plot structure and its representations of
gender and sexuality have received attention from Judith Mayne, who has
studied Clouzot's adaptation of Ce/le qui n'tait plus under the heading
of inversion. Mayne uses the term in a double sense, referring both to
Clouzot's inversion of the novel's original plot and to an older "scientific"
concept of homosexuality, according to which same-sex desire results from
the mversion of one's biological and psychological sex. When "Le Bonheur
dans le crime" emerges as anorher "tablea u sous le tablea u," these questions
uf gender and sexuality become more complicated. In Barbey d'Aurevilly's
story, Hauteclaire and Serlon are also represented as inverted with respect
ro gender. Ob!loerving Hauteclaire and Serian for the first time, the narrator
remarh, "Chose trange! dans le rapprochemenr de ce beau couple, c'tait
la femme 4ui avait les muscles et l'homme qui avait les nerfs" (116). The
narrator\ frie_nd,_ Dr. Torty, who has known the couple sorne time, concurs
that Hauteclare l!l. "l'homme des deux dans leurs rapports d'amants" ( J6l ).
We learn that Hauteclaire has distinguished herself as a master of rhe
tradltumally sport of fencing. Similar\ y, Ce/le qui n'tait plus, wld
pehpective, records his susceptibility to his nerves whdl:
hl!l. O&tem.ble lover, Lucienne a !Jo masculine: "Elle tait fortc
un homme"; "Curt:ux, elle est femme" (Boileau and Narcejac '
5

.
9
_
60
. However, whereas Lucienne's virility prefigures thc eventual revela to
she
5
a lesbian, Bar bey d'Aurevilly's text does not confiare Hauteclaire's
rnder with homosexual preference. The tale does not suggest that Hauteclaire
anything but the devoted (more masculine) half of a conrented heterosexu;t/
couple.
While the texts of "Le Bonheur dans le crme" and Ce/le qui n'tait plus
both describe their characters in explcirly gendered terms, viewers of /.es
Diaboliques muse make su eh judgments about the film 's characters ior
rhemselves. With the growth of gender studies, recent critics ha ve described
Signoret's Nicole as markedly mascu/ine. Mayne states che case bluncly:
"Nicole sports the 'mascu/ine' swagger, che short hair, and che deep husky
voice so typical of the female invert. How did Simon Signorec, icon of hyper-
hecerosexuality and popular symbo/ in France of che 1950s, make such a
believable butch?" (46).
To my mind, Nicole's masculinitv s not so immediately obvious. Et.ren
":ithout the narrators' explicir judgmenrs, Hauredaire mighr have srruck
.nmeteenth-century readers as masculine, owing ro her fearlessness .:wd
m fencing. Yet ir is less dear rhat movie audiences of che 1950s, halnruJted
to such icons as Bette Da vis and Barbara Sranwyck, would considered
Nico_le to be particularly manly. However, Mayne ochers are
that JO the immediate context of the film she s cerc .. unly che ffi( re
determined and more controJJing of che cwo women .Jnd rhar_
off ' h ch.Jt che hlm hmcs ..lt r e
as mure delicately feminine. Mayne Js a so ng e d ( 'J r-
lesbian relarionship of rhe origin .. tl novel, su p. poseJ/y suppres!'te "'
1

fil h . t ..w .unorow; re JCIO/J!'t
ITI. Once the viewer conceives che poss
1

0
1
Ji horom.\ Joe'>
berween Nicole and Cristina, rhe srereorypc.d l-temme '-
suggesr irself . .2 . . . ween rhc f"-O mnen r,o wh.r
The suggested relM_onsh_r ht.r / ron. Ir,., H1 rcnm ot hlm- rh.,_r_ 1
1 ha ve laheled tilm l and menrs

. ."
1
1
r.,e
111
1/Ht"rtt''f tor 1 ,._,-Jt./,o/J..u.'
ha ve ''l.e Bonheur d.lll-" lt '- rtlllt . . . Jc ."o.J\"IJ;:fl\ J,Ua fn'm
l.ike Ni<.:ole .1nd Cri:-.rin..J.ll.wtt'L/.Hrt' .lnd

rhc ,:ounre-. ... ..

eaL:h orhcr in rheir tf nnp.Hrl'lltt" tP cr lw'
from chron1c h.ld hc.;lrh.
1
:-. '
1
ru!llt'"
Mich_el'-. dt<;Ulprwn : ... bdth rhc ...
1
:nrc.
dt''>(.'flJlfUIII ,,t tht lllll" ,JIUI rdinnunC. rrr uJh" ,k,.--. tcnHII<''
fl"lll.lrk.1hk tor tlu:.' .. r' hcr -..r-.rc.
tr.llh} ,JIId dq..:.JIIl
PERRY MooN
de vieille race, puise, lgante, distingue, hautaine, et qui, du fond de leur
p3.Jeur et de Jeur '}.e suis du. temps, comme
ma race; e me meurs, ma!S e vous mepnse (Barbey d Aurev11ly 135-36).
On the other hand, Haureclaire's grace and nonchalance evoke the male
beaun of an animal species; the narrator describes her walking away "talant
53
rraine naire dans la poussiCre du jardin, comme un paon, ddaigneux jusque
de son plumage" (119). This coupling of masculinity with refinement is also
characterisric of Lucienne in Celle qui n'tait plus; in the same section that
describes her as "peu femme," we are told, "Lucienne appartient a un autre
univers, disringu, raffin, savant" (60). These latter attributes, more than her
masculinity, link Lucienne with Nicole. Listing her good qualities, Michel
savs of Nicole, "Elle a des connaissances, du got." But unlike Lucienne,
and Nicole each practice a traditionally femi ine craft: sewing
for Hauteclaire, crochet for Nicole.
Whether or not Clouzot and his fellow screenwriters were aware of it,
Les Diaboliques points as much ro "Le Bonheur dans le crime" asto Celle
qui n 'tait plus. However, it is unclear how much this intertextual reading
adds to our understanding of rhe film. Nor do the parallels justify Clouzor's
quotation of Barbey d'Aurevilly's preface. With respect to "Le Bonheur dans
le crime," the "horreur des choses" that Barbey d'Aurevilly announces in the
preface is not the murder itself but the fact that the couple escapes unpunished
eirher legally or psychologically. Sustained by independent wealth, Serlon
and Hauteclaire enjoy an enviable connubial happiness, indifferent to public
opinion and rumors. Nicole and Michel are not so lucky. Their bonheur dans
le crime lasts approximately fifry seconds before rhey are apprehended by
Inspector Fichet, who promises rhem "entre quinze et vingt ans de bagne."
To appreciate the fui! meaning of the prologue for both the short story and
the film, ir is necessary to loo k beyond the elements of character and plot that
1 have examined so far. Students of narrative are familiar with rhe distinction
herv.:een story and discourse. Briefly put, the discourse is the oral, written,
or v1sual means for relating rhe story. The story is what can be abstracted
from the narrative discourse. The distinction is well illustrated in "Le Bonheur
dans le crime." h has an embedded narrative structure frequently used by
Barbey d' Aurevilly. An anonymous narrator re lis how he learned the srory
of Hauteclaire and Serlon from his friend, Dr. Torry, after they had seen rhe
ar the Jardin des Plantes in Paris. The anonymous narrator in rurn is
relatmg the story ro a female friend of his but the bulk uf the discourse in
.. Le dans le crime" belongs ro As the Savigny's family doctor,
he: dJ!teo;er!!.. the while attending rhe ailing countess. .
Torty s h1gh.ly narrative is, at rimes, strikingly protocinemaw:.
When he descnbt:& Hauredaire-Eulalie for the first rime in rhe Savigny
he: the moment in a dramatic chiaroscuro favored by
. "lm noir: "Je vis merger de l'ombre qui noyait le pourtour profound
JaSSICII b d d f f . ' f f
' Joic et s'avancer a u or u cerc e ummeux trace par a ampe aurour du
dupa ' H 1 11 ' d
. Hauteclaire Stassin;-oui, autec aire, e e-meme!-tenant, ans ses belles
un platea u d'argent sur .Jeque! fumait le bol demand par la comtesse"
J36-37), However, the cnme Itself takes place, as 11 were, offscreen. lt is che
dying counress herself who informs Torty that Hauteclaire and Serian ha ve
poisoned her.
In "Le Bonheur daos le crime," then, Barbey d'Aurevi/ly emp/oys a dia/ogica/
framework. The story of the crime is liltered through three differenr narrarive
perspectives. The countess, Torty, and the anonymous narraror each represenr
different positions on the nature of justice. The countess embodies a lirm/y
reactionary position. She says that if peop/e of her starion sril/ enjoyed their
former prerogatives, she would ha ve long ago subjecred her adu/terous house
servant to "une justice expdititive et muerte" ( 159). S he a/so be/ieves that her
husband deserves to die for his part in the poisoning. Yet she swears Torry ro
secrecy in arder to protect the noble family's reputation. Lacking recourse ro
mechanisms of "justice," she chooses instead to preserve what is left of
anstocratic honor.
The spectacle of Serian and Hauteclaire's idyllic happiness provokes rhe
dialogic retlections of Torty and the narrator, good friends who
represent adversaria! worldviews. Rarionalist, arheisr, and marenalJsr.
Dr. Torty is a child of the Enlightenment in irs more stridenr forms, though he
is at ease in the world of nobility represenred by rhe Savigny household. Wt>
know less about the anonymous narraror. He professes his /ove and
for "les choses du catholicisme, donr i/ Torry1 raic /'ennemi" J . JC ;s
1. . . re or spmtud .
Unclear whether his attachmenr ro che {orm of opposmg
he and Torty represen.r rhe

of che Third
lntellectual, moral, and poli rica/ tort.:es
10
che. . hJi.,hed.
R . , . /1 l '5 DJulmhqut'S pu . d
epubltc, when Barbey d Aurev_1 .t. lled hv chr:- h.lppiness ot Ser/on .10
Both Torty and rhe .'ue d_.. ,
1

!"1auteclaire. presenrs hrs

he h.ts .. bien scrure che
Jn terms of a climcal He s.J)" . h h scuJ1r:-J rher h.tpp
of Serlon and Hauredaire ( 1 60), rhha.r. he .J subeL-r tor
.. . . .,
1 6
.1nJ rhar r l'L
11
u . The.Jnon.'uuJu ...
ffilcroscoplquemenr ,( ; he hopcs to writt' one J.ay (

3
'
1
m
1
rr rhe1,..-r.JUL.
the rrearise on rerarology t x res..,es h.o.

tro ue k l.wnh,ur Jt
narraror, on rhe orher ."f,f. Jcs( 1rJrc la aeJtull1 q
"C'esr un dtroy.l t .. noc otttr .111.'
gcns-ht ( 1 60)._ . . d't\urtvll.\ s r.dt .. ami /e,ncs r h' r ' n.Jd'.
Trut ro his pnhtLt"', . .. f'horrl""ur J,._., n li.Jrn ,IHJ rhc.
cdifying 111 rhc

wh.1f r n.lfr.JC" "

1

tot:nnduJe w_ t.t ... .., nor ro btc.'"-P"'Lfo:: u
rhJt ultunJCt'/u.-.tiLl 1
l64
PERRY MOON
.. la crearion." Despite rhe scandal caused.by when the book
appeared in 1874, ''Le dans le d'
position as a "moraliste chret1en . qm cr01t a u D1able et a ses mtluences
daos 1< monde" (231. .
That
5
not a description one would read1ly apply ro Clouzot. Les
Dialmfiques allows secular justice to take irs. course, which differentiates the
film not only from "Le Bonheur dans le cru.ne" ?ut from Ce/le qui n'tait
plus. More importantly, rhe film lacks the dralogJCal framework of Barbey
d'Aurevillv's tale, a framework that JS supposed to provoke sorne moral
retlection the reader's part. While this srudy has added confirming evidence
ro Stam's rhesis rhat any cinematic adaptation of a literary work inevitably
resulrs in a broader intertextual dimension, it ca lis into question Sta m 's elision
of intertextualiry and dialogism. With Les Diaboliques, one could speak of a
dialogical reduction vis-3-vis "Le Bonheur dans le crime."
Nevertheless, Clouzot's film preserves the hoary antithesis between
Catholicism and science. Nicole teaches sciences at the school, and it is she
who supposedly drugs the whiskey that puts Michel ro sleep. Cristina is a
fervenr Carholic. She keeps an altar in her bedroom, and we learn that she
was educa red by nuns.
1
By making Nicole a science teacher, Clouzot carries
into rhe film rhe scientific and rationalist atrirude of the medica! doctor
Lucienne in Celle qui n'tait plus. However, Cristina's devout Catholicism
has no counterpart in rhe Boileau-Narcejac novel. Although Mireille attends
mass for the ceremony and the music, she is a nonbeliever (Boileau and
Narcejac 77). Ravinal has a fascination wirh rhe occult, but does not seem to
adhere any normative religion. Thus one could argue rhar Clouzot's film has
simply mternalized the dialogism of "Le Bonheur dans le crime" to the story's
pr_incipal In an early scene, as rhe rwo women contemplare their
cnme, Cristma affirms her helief in hell, while Nicole proudly declares that
has_ not believed in hell since she was seven years old, rhe age of reason in
Cathohc theology. In his study of the film's cinema tic discourse Bertin-Maghit
cal!!> to the vertical pole that separa tes the two wom;n in rhis scene,
their opposition (2H3).
lt would be a questionable further step, though, ro say that the
hetween the two characters is "dialogical"
11
the way rhat rhe relationship
_Torty and the narrator of "Le Bonheur dans le crime" is. When
B:khtm mtroduced the concepr in his study of Dostoyevsky he pointed out
t !>tudy antinomies" in the novelist's w:>rk WJ!. already
0
at (
9
). Larer
10
the same work, he explains that "Dialogical relationships
'"' not reducible ro ilogical relationships/," such as aflirmation ;Jnd dmi<JI
s
4
). Rarher, ideas nwst the ."f suhjccr ...
1
d' ourse in orJer that relatwns nuxht ame among them" ( IH l
n ISl '
emphasis added). . . . . . . . . .
While rhe respective posrtlons of Cnstma and Ntcole on the l'XI.ottt'ni.-"t' of
hell minimally meet Bakhtin's requirement, no real dialogical rciariomhip.,
arise from rhe poolside conversation. Thc salient poinr ahotJt Cristin;'s

5
its lack of oppositional force ro Nicole's schemc. As thc momenr of thc
crime approaches, the question of whether Cristina will go through wirh ir
hinges not on her religious heliefs bur on her "coumge" and "forccs." Whcn
she finally sreels herself to carry out her pan in rhe plan, she comoidcr.'i her
resolve as a sign of moral valor.
4
Crsrina's Catholicsm thc form of
childlke piety rhat makes her prey ro superstition, hur does little ro s;Jvc ha
from moral peril. In rhe end she is, in Ficher's words, of .. m J .. lt-gal
wrongdoing, hut an:ording ro the tenets of her own filirh. !-iht' Jic.' of
havng viobted the f'ifrh
The opposition between Cristina 's ;:dtirmation of an c.ternal hdl ,wJ N.:ole\
denial comes down ro a logical, r<lther rhan a dia/ogit.:aJ, rdation.-;/up. Howcvcr,
simple pronouncement ("Mo, y ;ro.\") hccomc.<; di:liogH.:.JJ
a. dtffercnr senst. Ir is an example of whar Bakhtw ,,::tlh "dnuhle-\
111
'-:cJ
dtscourse. Refle.:ting Cristina's own hdief, thc st.Hcmcnr '-" monn/ngJlJI.
However, wirhin rhe film rhe sratement hc\.omes infu.-.td with anorlwr mH'IItJnn
conrrary ro Cristina 's own: it rht ot hdic{
111
he/l . . h
an intenext, "Le Bonheur dans le <.:rime" rhc:. Jouhlt-voh:cJ n.Hun nf
the utrerano: cven deJrer. hdieve-. 111 Jninc ntnhutlon,
1
" H.rl,t.;
d'Aurevilly would presumahly hav1..' his J,,, )"cr rht
hell has little dererrenr dft.d n the t;l' of rhe ht ft'
1
' h.
l11:r. . . l dh hur <. /nuLnr .... r ..
Cnstma s cha_rader ,In'

.,,:t"nc. U:'/lln .\1,..-Jw/lc"r"
on the cfticu.:y tlt ( hcr "''.l-!u111t rtr,n ..


l,hl:iVIOUsly ata ttcn.l_gt g_rl 011 :
1111
.J/IIIC St. l l< ,,, jt' /,Jul._ 1 ht
favorahly hl 1_ ht ndt
11
t rh h.,nwr tt :\lit hd\ Jnhcn . ..
parron S<lnt _of ..:hartr)" .. ::
1
, o/ (
f l._cs

.,t( ... 11'' t.''', ,,,
11
,wmr
a \ nu\d , .. rilkd "1th uu,,,., ''
1

Wlwrt..ts .wd N.lfo.
1
'
PERRY MOON
society (cigarettes High U{e, Le Courrier de
la Femme, Modes el Loisirs), Clouzot s film satlnzes. a culture that
fetishizes connaissances and got, the two quahtJes that M1chel appraises
in Nicole. In rhc educational world represented by. Les Diaboliques,
knnwledge 5 never part of a larger system for understandmg the world but
is hroken inro discrete hits of information to be produced on dernand. The
predominance nf rote learning at the school has often been rernarked. In the
ahsence of exrradiageric music, the children's choral repetitions and rnernorized
verses serve as an eerie background score. Minor characters, all of them
reachers, pride themselves on their encyclopedic grasp of trivia. When Nicole
mentions that she is going Niort for her vacation, her colleague, M. Raymond
(Michel Serrault), gratuitously ratrles off the rown's sous-prfectures. Nicole's
neighhor, M. Herboux, enthusiastically listens to the Zappy Max quiz show
nn the radio and fantasizes about winning a great deal of money. Never in
Clouzot's film do science and learning inform an ethical perspective as they
do for Dr. Torty.
Raymnnd and M. Drain (Pierre Larquey), the other two teachers at the
school, represent in their own way the opposition between scientific modernity
and tradition. Raymond typically speaks in a pseudoscientific jargon. In his
first lines in the film, he proclaims, "Nous avons tous enve de vacances. Notre
organisme a besoin d'liminer ses toxines." In contrast to Raymond's clipped
delivery, Drain speaks in a more ponderous fashion, and his language is more
archaically lirerary, befining a man who venera tes tradition. Making snide
insinuations, he tells Nicole, "Vous eres marinaJe. Cetre nuir comme je faisais
mes ronds, j'ai entendu vers quatre heures des dats de voix qui sortaient de
votre chambre. La femme vertueuse se plait a contempler l'aurore, n'est-il pas
vrai?" At the dinner table, Drain, a produce of a Jesuir education, predicrably
banalitie!. in Latin after drinking his wine. La ter he argues with Nicole
in of the priority that should be accorded to learning Latn, which, he
pomts out, every village priest has known since the Middle Ages. (Nicole
tartly that the average is not rhat smart.)
it is too simplisric to see Raymond and Drain as part of a "dialogic"
pattern m the film. Despite their differences, rhey are never in conflict with
each 1t is more accurate ro see them as examples of what Bakhtin calls
or reificatm of discourse. As Bakhtin explains, "lt is possible tu
ha_ve a of the image (and consequently a gross parody on it), that is,
1t 1!. have animage lof discoursej deprived of any real dialogicity"
lmagtnatum 419). Elsewhere, Bakhtin points out that "language
d1Herent1allon and the clearcut 'speech characterizations' of characters ha ve
greatest artistil' significance precisely in the crearion of objectified or
of_ people" (llroblems of Dostoyevsky's Poetics 182). Such
ob1ect1fied or finalz.cd" character!> (a fa ir dcscription of Raymund and Ora in)
d
the unfinalized hero of the living idea in Dostoyevsky's novels,
oppose to .
'" e dialogical art reaches tts apogee. . . . .
wher h ontext of these nondialogtcal antttheses between reltgwn and sctence
int ec d Cl ' h f t h 1 k
or ua:dirion and mo ouzot se_ otee o a pnva e-se oo _settmg ra .es
cultural historicaltmportance. Dunng the first part of the Thtrd Republtc,
especially in the !880s when Barbey d'AureviHy's Les Diaboliques
reappeared, primary schools were the slte of conrestatwn between the forces
0
Carholicism and modernity. One of the Republicans' goa/s in creating a
free, obligatory, public school system was the inculcation of a mora/e laiiue.
As Phyllis Stock-Morton has written, the origins of this mora/e laiiue in
rhe rhought of the En/ightenment and of the early nineteenth century were
complex; with the added polirical compromises necessary to creare a secular
school system, the resulting ethical prograrn was rather inchoare. Pierre Ognier
has emphasized that mora/e laiiue in the primary schools was generally of
spiritualist, rather than positivist, nspiration and affirmed borh the existence
ol God and the immorta/ity of the sou/. Nevertheless, opponenrs of the
Republican project for secular primary educarion decried the moral dangers
to the nation of "une cole sans Dieu."
Wirh the teaching staff of the Instirut DeJasaJie-a school neirher religiously
affiliared nor state sponsored-Ciouzor creares an echo of the policical
discourse during the time rhat Barbey d'AureviJJy was publishing his stories,
but in the film this discourse is denuded of its dialogical force. However, rhe
choice of a school setting is also important for contemporary reasons.
Barbey d'Aurevilly's anthology, Clouzot's film appeared when soclery
Was still trying co reestablish itself after a catadysmic_war wJth Germany.
However, during rhe Fourrh Republic, rhe discourse of nanonal a/ dJd not
revolve so much around rhe poles of religion science. lnstead, lt
on the counrry's youth. Richard Jobs has demonsrrared rhar r
Fourth Republic and well inro rhe Fifrh. re .. :onsrrucrion was
rejuvenation fos;ering a nacional culr of yourh. France's young peop eh Je;Jtht"
the focus of rhe nation's hopes and anxieries. Howevt"r, t.s}ohs nore;:J:r;J rhe
French equared youth wirh renewal and hope.

0 ; rht p.Jsr as J
adult generation as outdaced, ourmoded, .wd
111
n '"
opposed ro a sign o_f the future ". (-.H-. , . l>i.Jbobques. rhe" NI m.
This impli,:ation 1s rhr pupls .r
the relntions berween the ot rhe rr;u:ht"rs ro ,,:orn--..:
naturc. However, ( )Jit' pup1/, ,\tlomer,

rrurll. tht"
1s, ro sa.y least, wh;, h;ln" a_ J,fticulr

rok rr)t)Jd
punJdwJ tor lyHl.!; l)"tilm wht'JI rhe pup!h. ,,.,k r'.' hAH' ,, /or ,,, .. ,..,,uks.
only 111 onlc>llt 111 tht: _ . rh lf o Hit" Jt_t tht") w . J rr 111_,,. 11 , 1r""' m
whtn and l\-1umrt ';'. rh: seelll ro hn 111"
like M. J)d.ts;tlk. ).
PERRY MooN
figures from American comic books, Jobs points out were considered
a scourge hy poliricians across the pohncal spectrum, from conservative
Catholics ro communists (237-44). .
Clouzor's film, rhen, has painted a very dtfferent tableau over Barbey
d'Aure,illv's own peinture mora le. The latter offers a dialogic framework that
cannot sa;isfv rhe reader's indignation at the murderous couple portrayed. In
Les Diabolilues, Clouzot creares a microcosm in which the moral positions
represented by Torry and his interlocutor ha ve brok.en clown. 1t may
be rempting ro rhink of Clouzot as a belated Fnednch Ntetzsche, looking
hack sardonically on rhe intellectual and moral pretentions of the nineteenth
cenrun. Taken out of its original context, the film's prologue acquires the
physio{;nomy of a Nietzschean epigram. However, the meaning of the quore
in Clouzot's film remains unclear. His claim to ha ve painted his own peinture
moralc cannot be evaluated only with respect to what 1 ha ve called film 2.
In film 1, iris rhe unexpected couple of Cristina and Nicole who conspire to
kili Michel. As mentioned earlier, Mayne makes a convincing case that the film
retaim something of the lesbian subtext of Boileau and Narcejac's novel. In two
differem scenes, the film calls anention ro the fact that the two women share
a hed, even when they return to the school where they ha ve separare rooms.
And when Cristina sends Nicole away near the end of rhe film, the breakup is
poignant but necessary as in the lesbian pulp fiction of rhe 1950s (Mayne 53).
The relationship berween Cristina and Nicole, however, evokes another literary
text, in which a calculating lesbian seduces a vulnerable young woman and
persuades her to kili her husband. lf Nicole recalls Haureclaire in terms of
2, in film l she is a reincarnation of Ines Serrano, part of rhe inferno trio
m Jean-Paul Sartre's Hu1s dos, which premiered with great success in 1944.
The parallels hetween Les DiaiJOiiques and Huis dos are not limited ro the
character!l. of Nicole and Ines. Sarrre's play includes rhree principal characters:
une and two women. Garcin is a writer and poltica! activist, a proponent
of paclfism, who loses the courage uf his convictions and runs away when
war breab out. However, he also confesses thar he regular\ y cheated on his
and that he abu!l.ed her. Thus, hke Michel, he combines a certain urbanity
Wlth EsteHe, rhe third ro arrive in Sartre's hell. bas
causing her \over ro despair and kili himse\f. Yet she
mnally appears more innocenr than rhe other two, claiming that her
fault was to ha ve married a wealthv older man whom she did not \ove
10
to htlp h_er younger hrother. Likewise, Cristina elicits symparhy an
un app_y marnage and exudes a same !>ense of self-sacrifice, in her hy
havmg mve\ted her fortune in the school.
("llf J.es DJaboliques, like Huis e los, us with three cu\pahle indivi_duab,
(, ou_zo,t depan!>_from the play's tradnional gendered notions of
!>real Lrlme l!io hi!l. lo!>\ of nervc. not his mistrearment uf h!S
wife. Yet Sartre assigns the two women characters to hel/ for what
b alled crimes agamst relatJOnshtps, each one havmg caused her lover s
Clouzot's film extends this indictment to al/ three principal characters:
Cristina, Michel, and NJCole are al/ gUIIty of v10lence aga111st, and betraya/ of,
their supposed loved ones.
As wirh "Le Bonheur dans le crime," an intertextual reading musr not only
compare rhe srories and characters bur also examine the discourse of rhe film
and rhe play. Huis clos does not present its characrers' crimes on the srage, bur
as backstory. Al! of the characters are in heJJ. Sartre 's purpose is ro dramatize
not the crimes themselves but his theory of the gaze (le regard), whch he
elaborated in his philosophical tome, L'Etre et le nant. As the play progresses,
lnes, Garcin, and Este !le gradually reveal rhe crimes for which they are in hell.
They also realize rhat they ha ve been also assigned ro rorrure one anorher, the
instrumenr of torture being their recriminaring gazes. Garcin is condemned
ro exisr for erernity as a coward beca use rhat is how Ines and Estelle see him.
jusr as they are both condemned ro exst forever as callous murderesses. Their
various maneuvers ro avoid responsibility for their crimes fail.
In Les Diaholiques. Clouzor offers a scene reminiscenr of che
dialogue of Huis c/os. Afrer discovering that \1chel's body hJs disappeJud
from rhe swimming pool. Cristina and Nicole engage in an Mgumenr
their share of responsibility for rhe crime. In conrrasr to her arrirude hetore
rhe crime, when she prided herself on her resolve ro see it rhrough. Cnmn.J
claims thar she was never willing or able ro ki/J t\/lichd:
Cristina: Tu a vais achet la nappe pour l"envdopper./.1 dro,!!ue
pour l'endormir.
Moi, je n\wrais jamais su.
Nicole: Tu as su le faire bore.
Crisrna: Menreuse! .k ne vouL.-.
pas!
. . "llllt"f 1 ft"/ll.HllS rj,r:J Oll { (1.\tlll<l, \1 tth
rhis momenr ot J;logue, rhe "": Sll rh.Jr \H' .. r:t' ( nsrulJ .. ...,wrm
hcad tn rhe r.:orna ot ... - ot ha ,:nrnr:. 11 .worhcr
t_he g<.lze of rhc per.o.nn tt thl _l.!,l.lt' w .1_\,,n
1

tilm giVt'" exprr:'isHJil (tJ .'-. . , . h,.dr.llll rhc P''t'l ( rr ... ruJ,l .,,r .. ,._
r.:annot. Afra ,..,klllg

tor rht J,_..,.,-.. ,r:n

d.ls'>toonl anJ slf., .11 ht u. k .. cl}ttt'lh.T rht r/J<" r/H"lt
\X'Iwn shc looks, dw h.nt m ._us,Jd""
g.lles \.t'd tlll htr. ln .. tuJ.l-
:-.t.Jfi':O. .. /w
1111
,,t 1ht
... " v.H /.l /1.
PERRY MOON
rhe popular idea rhat each of us harbo_rs a "true sel_f" _rhat is not the self thar
others see. Sartre flatly denies the_ ex1stence of th1s. mner self. The self, he
says, is entirely in rhe world. Pur_ d1fferently, self IS which
for Sartre means rhat it is extenor w u_nhke an mdividual's
self-image. Alrhough Sartre does h1s m
de /"go primarily in rerms of the are clear:
our moral self-image is not pnvlleged agamst our bemg-m-the-world. The
perceptions of orhers are to th_e extent thar they are in
tension with our self-image. Th1s IS the 1mporr of Huts el os and of those scenes
in Les Diaholiques where Cristina protesrs that she could not ha ve killed
Michel because she was incapable of doing so. "Regarder en soi" is Garcin's
prescription for avoiding the torments of hell (Huis clos 42).
Clouzot had no need to learn these lessons from Sartre's play. In a less
allegorical manner than Huis dos, Le Corbeau had already dramatized rhe
same themes of the gaze of the other and of the disjunctions between one's
transcendental self and one's moral self-image. In the mythical village of Sr.
Robn, a series of poison-pen lerters reveals the crimes and moral failings
of the town's citizens. Adultery, abortion, promiscuity, petty theft, and drug
addiction all take center stage in la France pro{onde, and both official France,
as represented by rhe local prefect, and rhe Church are incapable of stopping
the damage from the revelations. Little wonder that rhe film earned the
condemnation of both the Resistance press and Vichy France.
Because of the controversy surrounding Le Corbeau during and after the
war.,critics ha ve looked to the characrers' speeches as statements of Clouzot's
own moral and political stance. However, a careful analysis would show
that the discourses of the main characters, Rmy Germain and Dr. Vorzet,
each attempt ro susrain a moral selfimage that the film undermines. In
similar fashion, film 1 of Les Diaboliques undermines Cristina 's protests that
she could not ha ve killed Michel beca use she was incapable of doing so.
(Aithough ir rurns out rhat Cristina did not kili Michel, she certainly proved
herself capable of doing so,) Ir would require another article ro show that
Le Corbeau and Les Diaboliques actually surpass Sarrre's play in pursuit
of Samean themes. More effectively than Hus clos, Clouzot's rwo films go
beyond the more familiar theme of masks to penetrare the moral selfimage
of their leadmg characters .
. lf the link between film 2 and "Le Bonheur dans le crime" is suggested by
quor_e from Barbey d'Aurevilly's preface. the intertextual reading r_hat
film 1 wuh Huis clos and Le Corbeau finds reinforcement in hisroncal
When Clouzot was put on tria\ and condemned for Le Corbeau,
puhlacly defended the film and its director. During rhe two years when
Clouz.ot was forhidden to make films, he and Sartre worked rogether 00 a
!J.Crtenplay for an .. epic" film version of Huis dos, though the intertexr for thal
JNTERTEXTUALITY I
N CLOUZOT'S LES DIABOUQUES 271
1 rno (Contar and Rybalka 496). Though this
be Dante s ne di ft k
adapration was ro to fruirion, rhe project undoubte y e a mar on
. . film never ca me // . , .
3mbrnous . t al adaptation of Ce e qut n etatt P us.
, wn mtertex u d bl d
Ciouzots
0
1
d" gs amplify rhe prologue's ou e-v01ce nature m
h
. nrertextua rea m . . . . lf
T ese
1
Cl ot intlects rhe quotation wlth hrs own mtennons.
Diabobques. ouz , f
Les the original meaning of Barbey d Aurevdly s pre ace, m m
film
2
choses" refers to rhe transcendental self of the criminal in
t or her moral self-image. However, Clouzot's prologue derives
opposltlon o . h fil h h
rhis meaning from rhe film itself, not from sources outsrde t e m. W r e t e
inrertexts help deepen our understanding of the film beyond its plot, they do
nor substitute for the film.
At rhe same time, the inrertexts help us see that Les Diaboliques is not the
perfectly self-contained work of art that sorne critics ha ve prodaimed ir ro be.
Bazin admired rhe film for many reasons, but principally for rhe Aristotelian
reasons that rhe film represents the perfection of style in the policier genre
and that ir lea ves the viewer in a state of catharsis. He cautions his readers
against looking for any broader social or psychological significance. For Bazin,
Les Diaboliques represents a departure from Clouzot's other work, and he
specifically mentions Le Corbeau. However, the intertextual reading has not
only demonstrated the place of Les Diaboliques in French cultural history,
which is perhaps more apparent now than at the time the film was released.
that the film is actually closer in spirit to Le Corbeau than
azm Jmagmed. Among its other meanings, the film 's prologue could be read
as a retrospective defense of Le Corbeau.
Stephen F. Austin State University
Works Cited
Bakhtin, Mikhail. The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essuys. Trans. Caryl
Emerson and Michael Holquist. Austin: lJ of Texas P, 1981.
--. Problems of Dostoyevsky's Poetics. Trans. and ed. Caryl Emerson.
Theory and HistOT)' of Literature 8. Minneapolis: U of Minnesora P.
1984.
Barhey d'Aurevilly, Jules. Les Diabo/iques. Ed. Jao::ques Perir. Paris: Edirio
Gallimard, 1973.
Bazin, Andr. "Les Diaboliques: l.e Sryle :'est le genre." Le CinmJ fr.;n,_..,l$
de la l.1hraticm .i ,, Noutelle V<lgUt' (1945-1958). Paris: C.ah1ers du
cinma,
Benin-Magh, Je.tn-Pierre.
'Terreur et reprsent.Jtio
271-Hf..
PERRY MooN
HoiiC"au, Pirrrc, and Thomas Narcejac. Ce/le qui n'tait plus. Paris: Editions
Denod, 1952.
llordwell, David. "The Classic Hollywood Sryle." The Hollywood
Cinmoa. By David llordwell, Janet Staiger, and Kristin Thompson. New
York' Columbia UP, 1985. 1-84.
Clouzot, Henri-Georges, dir. Les Diaboliques. 1955. Videodisc. Criterion
Collecrion. 1996.
--.Le Mystre Pie<Jsso. 1956. Videodisc. Milestone Film and Video. 2003.
Contat, Michel, and Michel Rybalka. Les crits de Sartre. Pari., Gallimard,
1970.
Hayward, Susan. Les Diaboliques. The French Film Guides. Chicago: U of
lllinois P, 2005.
Hitchcock, Alfred. lnterview. Hitchcock. By Fran<ois Truffaut with Helen G.
Scott. New York, Simon and Schuster. 1984.
jobs, Richard lvan. Riding the New Wave: Youth and the Reiuvenation of
France after the Second World War. Stanford, Stanford UP, 2007.
Lloyd, Christopher ... Eiiminating the Detective: Boileau-Narcejac, Clouzot,
and Les Diaboliques." Crime Scenes: Detective Narratives in European
Culture since 194S. Ed. Anne Mullen and Emer O'Beirne. Amsterdam:
Editions Rodopi, 2000. 37-47.
Mayne, judith. Framed: Lesbians, Feminists, and Media Culture. Minneapolis:
U of Minnesota P. 2000.
Ognier, Pierre. Une cole sans Dieu?, 1880-1895: L'Invention d'une morale
lai"que sous Ll lile Rpublique. Toulouse: Presses Universitaires du
Mirail, 2008.
Petit, Jacques. Notice. Les Diaboliques. Paris: Editions Gallimard, 1973.
344-48.
Sartre, Jean-Paul. Huis el os suivi de Les Mouches. Paris: Editions Gallimard,
1947.
--. La Transcendance de l'go: Esquisse d'une dscription
phnomnologique. Paris: Librairie Philosophique J. Vrin, 1992.
Stam, Robert ... Beyond Fidelity."' Film Adaptation. Ed. James Naremore. New
Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 2000. 54-76.
Stock-Morton, Phyllis. Moral Education for a Secular Society: The
Development of Mora/e Laique in Nineteenth Century France. Albany:
U of New York P. 1988.
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