Acest site si-a dat obstescul sfarshit. Dumnezeu sa-l ierte.

I’ll see you on the other side.

Lucrurile stăteau mai mult sau mai puţin aşa, cînd bătrînul Pozzo, pe la jumătatea lui aprilie, adună în faţa castelului pe cei mai tineri dintre ţăranii lui, împărţi toate armele ce se găseau în ţinut, îl chemă pe Roberto şi le ţinu tuturor această cuvîntare, pe care şi-o pregătise pesemne în timpul nopţii: “Oameni buni, ascultaţi-mă. Pămîntul ăsta al nostru de la Griva a plătit totdeauna tribut Marchizului de Monferrato, căci de mult timp e ca şi cum ar fi ducele Mantovei, care însă a devenit acuma domnul de Nevers, şi dacă cineva vine şi-mi spune mie că Nevers nu e nici mantovan, nici din Monferrato nu-i, eu îi dau un picior în cur, pentru că sînteţi nişte mîncăi ignoranţi care din lucrurile astea nu pricepeţi nici pe dracu’ şi aşa că-i mai bine să tăceţi din gură şi să-l lăsaţi pe stăpînul vostru să vorbească, pentru că el ştie cel puţin ce-i aia onoare. Dar cum voi onoarea vi-o atîrnaţi în locul ăla, ştiţi voi unde, aflaţi că dacă imperialii intră în Casale, ăia sînt oameni pe care nu-i poţi lua cu binişorul, de viile voastre o să se-aleagă praful, iar de femeile voastre mai bine să nu vorbim. De-aia ne ducem să apărăm Casale. Eu nu oblig pe nimeni. Dacă e vreun tăntălău de trîntor care nu-i de părerea asta, s-o spună acuma şi-l spînzur de stejarul de colo”. Nimeni de pe-atunci nu putea să fi văzut gravurile în acva-forte ale lui Callot cu ciorchini de oameni ca şi ei care atîrnau de alţi stejari, dar pesemne că ceva dădea tîrcoale prin aer: toţi înălţară, care muschetele, care lăncile, care nişte prăjini cu cîte o seceră legată la vîrf şi strigară “Trăiască Casale, jos cu imperialii”. Ca un singur om.

Observ ca Eco mentioneaza, ca narator,  unele nume peste care nu vrea sa sarim. Citisem pe undeva, ca adunase vreo 200 de citate din diferite carti, scriindu-le pe niste bucatele de hartie, fara sa numeasca sursa, ca sa le arunce pe ici pe colo prin text, in the natural flow of writing. Un astfel de citat, desi duce cu el ceva din sensul paragrafului sau cartii  de unde provine, poate sa semnifice (sau sa nu mai aiba nici o legatura cu originea) cu totul altceva acolo unde ajunge. Natural fucking flow (parca asta era expresia folosita.) Cu toate ca avem astfel de citate, pe care datorita “masinariei” lui nici macar autorul probabil ca nu mai stie de pe unde le-a smanglit, sunt locuri unde naratorul da nume. Nume peste care nici noi, nici el, nu ar trebui sa sarim de exemplu citatele de la inceputul carti din Marino si Donne.

Si care poate sa fie smecheria cu Callot? Daca ce am scris eu mai sus, are cat de cat o logica, ce ne-ar putea interesa pe noi la Callot mai mult decat urmatoarea poza la care face referire propozitia de mai sus:

Jacques callot - Les misères de la guerre

Jacques callot - Les misères de la guerre

Altundeva (nu ma intrebati unde, ca sa mor ca nu mai stiu) am citit ca Eco, pe langa faptul ca le-a dat un dosar cu fel de fel de info despre carte, le-a cerut traducatorilor sa nu foloseasca cuvinte aparute dupa secolul xvii. In traducere, sa foloseasca doar cuvinte ce circulau in epoca respectiva – pe la 1600-1650. Interesanta cerinta, nu? :)

Callot a facut o multime de gravuri cu oameni din acea epoca, soldati, cersetori, peisaje, mizeriile razboiului, caractere din Commedia dell’arte. Deisgur ca ne intereseaza gravurile cu razboiul, si cele ale oamenilor vremi, dar ce mi-a atras atentia sunt gravurile despre Balli di Sfessania. Copii de la Giornale Nuovo ca mi-e lene sa dau din papagal. Sper sa nu se supere gagiul:

Balli di Sfessania

In about 1622, an album of etchings by the French graphic artist Jacques Callot (1592-1635) was published, under the title Balli di Sfessania

'Cap. Cardoni and Maramao', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.

The prints in this series – Callot’s most exuberant and delightful – depict dances known in Neapolitan dialect as the sfessania. Such dances, as Callot’s etchings demonstrate in salacious detail, are characterized by violent and sometimes obscene physical contortions and gesticulations. Each plate features a pair of figures pulled from the repertoire of popular entertainers, their balletic interactions running a comic gamut from mock grace to blatant crudity – source here.

'Razullo and Cucurucu', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.*

'Cucoronga and Pernoualla', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.Callot had lived in Rome from 1608, and then in Florence from about 1612. He was appointed to the court of Grand Duke Cosimo II in 1614, for whom he made numerous prints intended as official depictions of the various public festivities staged by the Medici Court. Presumably, Callot had ample opportunity to make sketches of the entertainers participating in these events, later to become source material for the Balli series, which Callot etched some time after he returned to his native Nancy.

'Bello Sguardo and Couiello', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.*

'Scaramucia and Fricasso', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.I recognized some of the figures in these dances, or at least their names, as stock characters of the Commedia dell‘Arte: Pulcinella (not pictured here) and Scaramouche, for example. Many of the other names were unfamiliar to me, though: I had never heard of Maramao, say, or Cucurucu.

'Riciulina and Metzetin', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.*

'Franca Trippa and Fritellino', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.Interestingly, Callot’s works in this vein had a delayed but decisive literary influence. Amongst the first publications of the 19th-century German writer E.T.A. Hoffmann was a collection of tales entitled Fantasiest�cke in Callot’s Manier ‘Fantastic pieces in the manner of Callot’ (1814/15). A later story of Hoffmann’s, the marvellous Princess Brambilla (1820) was subtitled ‘Ein Capriccio nach Jakob Callot’.

'Scapino and Cap. Zabino', etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Balli di Sfessania', ca. 1622.The present images were all lifted from a Commedia dell‘Arte page at Guy Spielmann’s marvellous site Spectacles du Grand Si�cle, which collects many fascinating images relating to theatre in the 17th/18th Centuries. The final image, below, belongs to a different series of etchings, also by Callot, called Varie Figuri Gobbi (‘Various Hunchbacked Figures’)…

Etching by Jacques Callot, from 'Varie Gobbi Figure', ca. 1621..

Personajul care ne intereseaza pe noi este Pulcinella, dar voi vorbi despre el in alta postare. By the way, m-am gandit sa fac site-ul multilingual, poate gasesc niste italieni sa ne dea informatii despre unele chestii. Ei le stiu, si miros datorita faptului ca sunt italieni, cum probabil ca englezi prind cu usurinta aluziile la Donne si alti, si francezi …la mai stiu eu cine. Om trai si-om vedea. Pana una alta, sa speram ca mai sunt romani care ar vrea sa se implice. :)

Am sa adun si ceva poze din Les misères de la guerre, pentru o viitoare postare, ca sa vedem cum era lumea lui Roberto in timpul razboiului.

De vazut:  Cyber Muse Jacques Callot Gallery.

“Pentru soluţia acestei probleme legate de Punto Fijo,” urmă cardinalul, “acum şaptezeci de ani Filip al II-lea al Spaniei oferea o avere, iar mai tîrziu Filip al III-lea promitea şaisprezece mii de ducaţi rentă perpetuă şi două mii rentă viageră, iar Statele Generale ale Olandei treizeci de mii de florini. Nici noi nu ne-am zgîrcit cu ajutoarele în bani faţă de astronomi merituoşi… Apropo, Colbert, doctorul acela, Morin, sînt opt ani de cînd îl facem să aştepte…”

“Eminenţă, voi înşivă spuneţi că sînteţi convins că povestea aceea cu paralaxa lunară e o himeră…”

“Da, dar ca să-şi susţină ipoteza aceea a lui foarte îndoielnică, el a studiat cu eficacitate şi le-a criticat pe celelalte. Să-l facem să participe la acest nou proiect, ar putea să-i dea lămuriri domnului de San Patrizio. Să i se ofere o pensie, nu e nimic care să stimuleze ca banul bunele înclinări. Dacă ideea lui ar conţine un grăunte de adevăr, vom putea să ne asigurăm mai bine şi, în acelaşi timp, vom putea evita ca, simţindu-se părăsit în patria lui, să cedeze solicitărilor olandezilor. Mi se pare că tocmai olandezii sînt aceia care, văzîndu-i pe spanioli că şovăie, au început să trateze cu acel Galilei, iar noi am face bine să nu rămînem pe dinafară acestei situaţii…”

“Eminenţă”, zise Colbert ezitînd, “binevoiţi să vă amintiţi că Galilei a murit la începutul acestui an…”

“Adevărat? Să ne rugăm lui Dumnezeu să fie fericit, mai fericit decît i-a fost dat să fie în viaţă”.

“Şi oricum, şi soluţia lui a părut mult timp să fie definitivă, dar nu este…”

“Din fericire mi-ai luat-o înainte, Colbert. Dar să presupunem ca nici soluţia lui Morin nu face nici cît un ban găurit. Ei bine, noi să-l susţinem totuşi, să facem să se aprindă din nou discuţia în jurul ideilor lui, să stimulăm curiozitatea olandezilor: să facem în aşa fel ca să se lase ispitiţi, şi îi vom fi pus pentru cîtva timp pe adversari pe o pistă falsă. Vor fi bani bine cheltuiţi, în orice caz. Dar despre asta am vorbit de ajuns. Continuă, te rog, căci în timp ce San Patrizio află, voi învăţa şi eu.”

Cu compliments, Wikipedia.org:

jean-baptiste-morinJean-Baptiste Morin (February 23, 1583November 6, 1656), also known by his Latin pseudonym as Morinus, was a French mathematician, astrologer, and astronomer. Born in Villefranche, Yonne, in the Beaujolais, he began studying philosophy at Aix-en-Provence at the age of 16. He studied medicine at Avignon in 1611 and received his medical degree two years later. He was employed by the Bishop of Boulogne from 1613 to 1621 and was sent to Germany and Hungary during this time. He served the bishop as an astrologer and also visited mines and studied metals. He subsequently worked for the Duke of Luxembourg until 1629. Morin published a defense of Aristotle in 1624. He also worked in the field of optics, and continued to study in astrology. He worked with Pierre Gassendi on observational astronomy.

In 1630, Morin was appointed professor of mathematics at the Collège Royal, a post he held until his death.

A firm believer of the idea that the Earth remained fixed in space, Morin is best known for being opponent of Galileo and the latter’s ideas. He continued his attacks after the Trial of Galileo. Morin seems to have been a rather contentious figure, as he also attacked Descartes‘ ideas after meeting the philosopher in 1638. These disputes isolated Morin from the scientific community at large.

Morin believed that improved methods of solving spherical triangles had to be found and that better lunar tables were needed.

Morin and longitude

Morin attempted to solve the longitude problem. In 1634, he proposed his solution: it was based on measuring absolute time by the position of the Moon relative to the stars. It was a variation of the lunar distance method. Morin added some improvements to this method, such as better scientific instruments and taking lunar parallax into account. Morin did not believe that Gemma Frisius’ transporting clock method for calculating out longitude would work. Morin, unfailingly irascible, remarked, “I do not know if the Devil will succeed in making a longitude timekeeper but it is folly for man to try.”

A prize was to be awarded, so a committee was set up by Richelieu to evaluate Morin’s proposal. Serving on this committee were Étienne Pascal, Claude Mydorge, and Pierre Hérigone. The committee remained in dispute with Morin for the five years after he made his proposal. Morin refused to listen to objections to his proposal, which was considered impractical. In his attempts to convince the committee members, Morin proposed that an observatory be set up in order to provide accurate lunar data. He wrangled with the committee for five years.

In 1645, Cardinal Mazarin, Richelieu’s successor, awarded Morin a pension of 2,000 livres for his work on the longitude problem.

***

De asemenea vedeti:

Parallax

The Astrology of Jean-Baptiste Morin by Thomas Callanan

Astrology Books by Jean-Baptiste Morin

http://eqqqu.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/books.png?w=128&h=191

Socially Symbolic Acts By Joseph Francese

This book discusses issues of broad cultural consequence by examining the work of three of Italy’s most prominent living novelists, Umberto Eco, Vincenzo Consolo,’ and Antonio Tabucchi. The introductory chapter continues a discussion of some of the topics already broached in the author’s Narrating Postmodern Time and Space (1997). It uses an approach that is both historicist and psychoanalytic to critically address topics in cultural studies and Italian studies. The book deals with fictions of very recent publication, many of which have been published after the turn of the millennium, filling important gaps in the critical bibliography. Close readings relate texts to their historical and cultural contexts, critiquing their ideology while preserving their utopian moments.

 

 

***

Postmodernism  By Johannes Willem Bertens, Hans Bertens, Joseph P. Natoli

Postmodernism By Johannes Willem Bertens, Hans Bertens, Joseph P. Natoli

Featuring summaries of postmodernism’s greatest literary, cultural, and political champions written by a diverse group of scholars, Postmodernism: The Key Figures captures the dominance of a theoretical paradigm that has done nothing less than re-define the very terms of our knowledge and experience. Features summaries of postmodernism’s key figures, written by a diverse group of scholars. Highlights over fifty of postmodernism’s greatest literary, cultural and political champions. Includes an extensive bibliography of resources in postmodernism.

 

 

 

 

***

Umberto Eco and the Open Text  By Peter E. Bondanella

Umberto Eco and the Open Text By Peter E. Bondanella

 

The first comprehensive study in English of Umberto Eco’s theories and fictions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

Reading Eco  By Rocco Capozzi

Reading Eco By Rocco Capozzi

Umberto Eco, best known for his novels, “The Name of the Rose”, “Foucault’s Pendulum”, and “The Island of the Day Before”, has also written numerous scholarly books, including “A Theory of Semiotics, Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language”, “The Limits of Interpretation”, and “Apocalypse Postponed”, all from Indiana University Press.

 

 

 

***

Ecos Chaosmos  By Cristina Farronato

Eco's Chaosmos By Cristina Farronato

While Umberto Eco’s intellectual itinerary was marked by his early studies of post-Crocean aesthetics and his spectacular concentration on linguistics, information theory, structuralism, semiotics, cognitive science, and media studies, what constitutes the peculiarity of his critical and fiction writing is the tension between a typically medieval search for a code and the hermeneutic representative of deconstructive tendencies. This tension between cosmos and chaos, order and disorder, is reflected in the word chaosmos. In this brilliant assessment of the philosophical basis of Eco’s critical and fictional writing, Cristina Farronato explores the other distinctive aspect of Eco’s thought – the struggle for a composition of opposites, the outcome deriving from his ability to elicit similar contrasts from the past and re-play them in modern terms. Focusing principally on how Eco’s scholarly background influenced his study of semiotics, Farronato analyzes The Name of the Rose in relation to William of Ockham’s,epistemology, C.S. Peirce’s work on abduction, and Wittgenstein’s theory of language. She discusses Foucault’s Pendulum as an explicit comment on the modern debate on interpretation through a direct reference to Early Modern hermetic thought, correlates The Island of the Day Before as a postmodern mixture of science and superstition, and reviews Baudolino as an historical/fantastic novel that once again situates the Middle Ages in a postmodern context. Eco’s Chaosmos demonstrates how Eco’s use of semiotic theory is important for an understanding of the postmodern aspects of today’s literature and culture.
***
Illuminating Eco  By Charlotte Ross, Rochelle Sibley

Illuminating Eco By Charlotte Ross, Rochelle Sibley

This text covers the range of British scholarship on the prolific literary and theoretical work of Umberto Eco. With essays by scholars such as Michael Caesar and David Robey, the volume provides an overview of current research being carried out by a new generation of academics. In addition, it provides an opportunity to view the interaction between Eco’s fiction and his theoretical texts and suggests future avenues of research. The interdisciplinary nature of the contributions makes this collection accessible to Italianists and non-Italian speakers alike in order to situate Eco’s work in the wider literary and critical sphere. Contributions have been divided into four sections, with the first containing essays that engage with Eco’s writing through a strong awareness of the reading strategies suggested and required by his texts. The second section is composed of essays that discuss different approaches to interpretative strategies, including the relationship between Eco’s theoretical writing and his own fiction. The third part consists of new responses to Eco’s work, each of which questions previous theoretical interpretations and creates new applications for established approaches. Finally, the fourth section contains a written response from Eco himself to some of the questions raised by these essays, and a translation of the final chapter from his most recent publication, “Sulla letteratura”, which discusses the development of his narrative works from conception to execution.

***

 

Am cam tras chiulul, nu am mai adaugat nimic de ceva vreme. Mi-a mers si netu prost, si nici nu prea am avut timp. In plus, sunt asaltat de atat de multe lucruri despre care nu am habar incat imi pare ca orice as scrie ar fi o mare gogomanie. Mai citesc si recitesc, ce mai gasesc despre aceasta carte, dar nu se gasesc multe. Multe dintre articolele asa zis “de specialitate”, fac o multime de erori, sau se axeaza prea mult pe o singura idee (sau cel putin asa imi pare mie). Am o banuiala, in privinta lui Saint Savin, dar trebuie sa mai adun amprente, dovezi si alte probe.. :)

Nu pot sa mi-l scot din cap nici pe Manzoni asta, cu logodnici lui. Imi pare ca am fost nedrept in articolul precedent. Cand nu te poti exprima, mai bine taci.

Uite ce zice Eco despre Manzoni si Logodnici (de ce se scrie cu doi de “i”?), in doua dintre cartile sale:

In Logodnicii   un   preot   de   ţară   din secolul al vii-lea a cărui principală însuşire este laşitatea, în timp ce se intorcea într-o seară acasă recitîndu-şi breviarul, vede ceva ce n-ar fi dorit în ruptul capului să vadă, şi anume doi inşi …iniei care stau şi-1 aşteaptă. Un alt autor ar dori să satisfacă imediat nerăbdarea noastră de cititor şi ne-ar spune pe loc ce anume se petrece: cut to the chase. Manzoni nu face aşa. El face ceva care cititorului i se pare de neconceput. Iroseşte mai multe pagini, bogate în amănunte istorice, ca să ne explice cine erau bandiţii pe vremea aceea. Iar pe urmă, după ce ne-a spus asta, îl readuce în scenă pe don Abbondio, dar nu-1 face să se întîlnească cu bandiţii. Intîrzie în continuare:

“”Că cei doi pe care i-am descris mai sus stăteau acolo ca să aştepte pe careva, era un lucru prea evident; însă ceea ce-i displăcu mai mult lui don Abbondio fu aceea că-şi dădu seama, din anumite-gesturi, că cel aşteptat era el. Pentru că, la apariţia lui, aceia se priviseră unul pe altul în ochi, ridicînd capetele, cu o mişcare din care se ghicea că îşi spuseseră: el e; cel ce stătuse cu picioarele încrucişate, se ridicase, tîrindu-şi picioarele pe stradă; celălalt se dezlipise de lingă zid; şi amîndoî îi veneau în întîmpinare. El, ţinindu-şi întruna breviarul deschis dinainte-i, ca şi cum ar fi citit, îşi înălţa privirea pe deasupra, ca să le iscodească mişcările, şi văzîndu-i cum vin chiar în întîmpinarea lui, fu asaltat in pripă de o mulţime de gînduri. Se întrebă în grabă swea hii, dacă, între el şi ciomăgari, era vreo ieşire de uoară, la dreapta sau la stînga; şi-şi răspunse în graba ca  nu. Işi făcu în pripă o socoteală, dacă păcătuise cumva împotriva vreunui potentat, împotriva vreunui ins nia răzbunător; dar, chiar şi în tulburarea aceea, martorul consolator, conştiinţa, îl făcea sa se simtă întrucîtva ocrotit-ciomăgarii însă se apropiau, privindu-l ţintă. îşi duse arătătorul şi mijlociul la guler, ca pentru a şi-l aranja; şi, tot ocolindu-şi gîtul cu cele două degete, îşi întorcea în timpul ăsta capul îndărăt, strîmbîndu-şi şi gura, şi privind cu coada ochiului, pînă unde putea, ca să vadă dacă nu vine cineva, dar nu văzu pe nimeni. Îşi aruncă ochii, pe deasupra zidului peste cîmp: nimeni; apoi, altă privire mai scurtă pe drum, înaintea lui; nimeni, decît ciomăgarii. Ce să facă?”"”

Ce să facă? Observaţi că această întrebare este direct adresată nu numai lui don Abbondio, dar şi cititorului. Manzoni e maestru în a-şi amesteca naraţiunea cu neaşteptate “şi prefăcute apeluri la cititorii săi, iar acesta e printre cele .mai puţin prefăcute, Ce-aţi fi făcut dumneavoastră în locul lui don Abbondio? Acesta e un exemplu tipic despre felul cum autorul model, sau textul. îl invită pe cititor să facă; plimbare inferenţială. înfîrzierea foloseşte  la a stimula această plimbare. Să se observe, apoi, că cititorul, evident nu se întreabă ce să facă, pentru că e clar că don Abborrt n-are nici o cale de scăpare. Cititorul îşi vîră şi el degetele pe sub guler, dar nu ca să se uite înapoi, ci ca sa privească înainte la desfăşurarea acţiunii: este invitat întrebe ce-ar putea să vrea doi ciomăgari de la omul liniştit şi inofensiv. Eu n-am să vă spun ce. Dacă nu aţi pînă acum Logodnicii, rău aţi lacul, şi ar fi momentul citiţi. Oricum, aflaţi că totul porneşte de la întîlnirea de sus.

Am putea să ne întrebăm însă, dacă mai era necesar ca Manzoni să introducă informaţiile acelea istorice desji r’ie plătite. Se ştie foarte bine că cititorul e ispitit să sară . %i^~~~sT orice cititor al Logodnicilor a făcut astei, cel P   •   prjma dată. Ei bine, chiar şjrUmpul care se cere ca sâ*   \ r frjp^ii paginile ce nu se citesc. Face părte dintr-o strategie ‘.”r’iTvă  pentru că autorul model ştie (chiar dacă de multe ori autorul empiric n-ar şti să exprime concerta…..

într-o ori: ce parte din conţinutul povestirii.

That the two described above were on the lookout for some one, was but too evident; but what more alarmed Don Abbondio was, that he was assured by certain signs that he was the person expected; for, the moment he appeared, they exchanged glances, raising their heads with a movement which plainly expressed that both at once had exclaimed, ‘Here’s our man!’ He who bestrode the wall got up, and brought his other leg into the path: his companion left leaning on the wall, and both began to walk towards him. Don Abbondio, keeping the breviary open before him, as if reading, directed his glance forward to watch their movements. He saw them advancing straight towards him: multitudes of thoughts, all at once, crowded upon him; with quick anxiety he asked himself, whether any pathway to the right or left lay between him and the bravoes; and quickly came the answer, – no. He made a hasty examination, to discover whether he had offended some great man, some vindictive neighbour; but even in this moment of alarm, the consoling testimony of conscience somewhat reassured him. Meanwhile the bravoes drew near, eyeing him fixedly. He put the fore finger and middle finger of his left hand up to his collar, as if to settle it, and running the two fingers round his neck he turned his head backwards at the same time, twisting his mouth in the same direction, and looked out of the corner of his eyes as far as he could, to see whether any one was coming; but he saw no one. He cast a glance over the low wall into the fields – no one; another, more subdued, along the path forward – no one but the bravoes. What is to be done?

“Sase plimbari prin padurea narativa”

Don Abbondio and don Rodrigos men

Don Abbondio si oameni lui don Rodrigo

*******

Vom spune, mai curînd, că un text narativ introduce semnale  textuale  de  tip  diferit pentru  a     sublinia că disjuneţia care urmează a se produce este relevantă. Să le spunem semnale de suspens. Pot consta, de exemplu, într-o amînare a răspunsului la întrebarea implicită a ci­titorului. Să ne gindim la paginile despre decrete pe care Manzoni le introduce între apariţia tîlharilor în faţa lui don Abbondio şi povestirea a ceea ce-i vor spune tîlharii. Pentru mai multă siguranţă, autorul se străduieşte să ne semnaleze şi starea de aşteptare a personajului (care coin­cide cu a noastră şi în acelaşi timp întemeiată) de două ori, înainte şi după digresiunea despre decrete :

(27) „/■■■/ văzu ceva ce nu se aştepta şi nici n-ar ji dorit vadă : doi bărbaţi, stind [..■] (urmează descrierea tîlharilor, pe urmă se inserează - alimentînd suspens-ul - lunga discuţie despre decrete ; apoi textul se reia cu alte semne de suspensie).

[...] Că cei doi inşi înfăţişaţi rnai sus stăteau acolo aşteptind pe cineva, era mult prea evident [...]

[...] Îşi  puse   imediat  întrebarea  dacă  între  tîlhari  şi  el era vreo cărare [...]

[...] Işi cercetă grabnic amintirile, ca să-şi dea seama dacă nu cumva păcălutuise împotriva vreunui puternic [...] Îşi virî ară­tătorul  si  mijlociul  miinii  stingi  între  git  şi  guler  [...]  apoi aruncă o privire pe deasupra zidului, spre cîmp [...] Ce facă ? *

Uneori semnale de suspens sînt date de diviziunea pe capitole, prin care sfîrşitul capitolului coincide cu situa­ţia de disjuncţie. Uneori, naraţiunea avansează în epi­soade şi introduce o perioadă de timp obligatorie între întrebare (nu întotdeauna implicită) şi răspuns. Spunem atunci că intriga, la nivel de structuri discursive, acţio­nează în pregătirea aşteptărilor Cititorului Model la ni­vel de fabulă, şi că destul de des aşteptările cititorului sînt sugerate descriind situaţii explicite de aşteptare, de­seori spasmodică, ale personajului.

Lector in fabula

Scuze, pentru greselile din citatele de mai sus. Dar cartile sunt scanate….si cam asha apar. Nici eu nu le-am putut citi ca lumea, si nu am gasit versiunea in engleza. Asta e.

Adaug si o imagine, care nu are nici o legatura cu acest post, sau cu cartea si siteul nostru, dar cine stie poate-i gasim vreo legatura in viitor.

E mai frumos un text cu poze, nu?

Velazquez - Meninas (1656)

Velazquez - Meninas (1656)

Am terminat recent de citit cartea Logodnicii de Alessandro Manzoni. Pe undeva am citit ca Eco s-a inspirat din cartea asta, atat in ce priveste asediul de la Casale, cat si in creerea pesonajului Ferrante – e drept in cartea lui Manzoni, gasim un caracter secundar cu numele de Ferrante. Mie totusi aceste legaturi imi par destul de mici. AAa… era sa uit, alta asemanare e ca in ambele carti, autorul vorbeste de un manuscris gasit, construindu-si naratiunea pe aceste documente. In Logodnicii, e o carte (sau scrieri) ale unui anonim, in Insula, “scrisorile” lui Roberto.

Am zis sa scriu cateva randuri akum cand tocmai am terminat de citit cartea, dar habar nu am ce sa scriu. Intr-adevar se pomeneste de asediul de la Casale, cum a fost schimbat Gonzalo cu Spinola, moartea lui Spinola, ravagiile facute de armate in drumul lor spre Casale, ciuma de la Milan si imprejur, si avem si un Ferrante.

Nu pot sa spun ca m-a impresionat in mod deosebit cartea, desi din cand in cand are unele sclipiri. Sclipiri putine totusi. Din cate am inteles, aceasta carte e foarte apreciata in Italia, si e pe programa scolara. Deci orice student din scoala Italiana, vrea nu vrea da peste ea. Nu stiu exact in ce clasa o studiaza, dar se pare ca o studiaza de le iese pe nas “I Promessi Sposi” :)

Cartea am citit-o online aici: I Promessi sposi (The Betrothed) English version

I Promesso Spozi

I Promesso Spozi de Alessandro Manzoni

Daca apasati pe imaginea de mai sus, va duce la un site unde sunt poze referitoare la unele scene din carte. Am sa redau cateva randuri, in care se vorbeste de Ferrante:

When we have said of Donna Prassede that she was dead, we have said all; but Don Ferrante, considering that he was a man of erudition, is deemed by our anonymous author worthy of more extended mention; and we, at our own risk, will transcribe, as nearly as possible, what he has left on record about him.

He says, then, that, on the very first whisper of pestilence, Don Ferrante was one of the most resolute, and ever afterwards one of the most persevering, in denying it, not indeed with loud clamours, like the people, but with arguments, of which, at least, no one could complain that they wanted concatenation.

`In rerum natura,` he used to say, `there are but two species of things, substances and accidents; and if I prove that the contagion cannot be either one or the other, I shall have proved that it does not exist – that it is a mere chimera. Here I am, then. Substances are either spiritual or material. That the contagion is a spiritual substance, is an absurdity no one would venture to maintain; it is needless, therefore, to speak of it. Material substances are either simple or compound. Now, the contagion is not a simple substance; and this may be shown in a few words. It is not an ethereal substance; because, if it were, instead of passing from one body to another, it would fly off as quickly as possible to its own sphere. It is not aqueous: because it would wet things, and be dried up by the wind. It is not igneous; because it would burn. It is not earthy; because it would be visible. Neither is it a compound substance; because it must by all means be sensible to the sight and the touch; and who has seen this contagion? who has touched it? It remains to be seen whether it can be an accident. Worse and worse. These gentlemen, the doctors, say that it is communicated from one body to another; for this is their Achilles, this the pretext for issuing so many useless orders. Now, supposing it an accident, it comes to this, that it must be a transitive accident, two words quite at variance with each other; there being no plainer and more established fact in the whole of philosophy than this, that an accident cannot pass from one subject to another. For if, to avoid this Scylla, we shelter ourselves under the assertion that it is an accident produced, we fly from Scylla and run upon Charybdis: because, if it be produced, then it is not communicated, it is not propagated, as people go about affirming. These principles being laid down, what use is it to come talking to us so about weals, pustules, and carbuncles? . . .`
`All absurdities,` once escaped from somebody or other.
`No, no,` resumed Don Ferrante, `I don`t say so: science is science; only we must know how to employ it. Weals, pustules, carbuncles, parotides, violaceous tumours, black swellings, are all respectable words, which have their true and legitimate signification: but I say that they don`t affect the question at all. Who denies that there may be such things, nay, that there actually are such? All depends upon seeing where they come from.`
Here began the woes even of Don Ferrante. So long as he confined himself to declaiming against the opinion of a pestilence, he found everywhere willing, obliging, and respectful listeners; for it cannot be expressed how much authority the opinion of a learned man by profession carries with it, while he is attempting to prove to others things of which they are already convinced. But when he came to distinguish, and to try and demonstrate that the error of these physicians did not consist in affirming that there was a terrible and prevalent malady, but in assigning its rules and causes; then (I am speaking of the earliest times, when no one would listen to a word about pestilence), then, instead of listeners, he found rebellious and intractable opponents; then there was no room for speechifying, and he could no longer put forth his doctrines but by scraps and piecemeal.

`There`s the true reason only too plainly, after all,` said he; `and even they are compelled to acknowledge it, who maintain that other empty proposition besides . . . Let them deny, if they can, that fatal conjunction of Saturn with Jupiter. And when was it ever heard say that influences may be propagated . . . And would these gentlemen deny the existence of influences? Will they deny that there are stars, or tell me that they are placed up there for no purpose, like so many pin – heads stuck into a pin – cushion? . . . But what I cannot understand about these doctors is this; to confess that we are under so malignant a conjunction, and then to come and tell us, with eager face, `Don`t touch this, and don`t touch that, and you`ll be safe!` As if this avoiding of material contact with terrestrial bodies could hinder the virtual effect of celestial ones! And such anxiety about burning old clothes! Poor people! will you burn Jupiter, will you burn Saturn?`

His fretus, that is to say, on these grounds, he used no precautions against the pestilence; took it, went to bed, and went to die, like one of Metastasio`s heroes, quarrelling with the stars.

And that famous library of his? Perhaps it is still there, distributed around his walls.

Cartea e interesanta de citit, mai mult din perspectiva istorica. E interesant, felul cum vorbeste despre ciuma, vremurile de atunci etc. Oricum, te face sa respiri putin aerul vremi. Mi-a placut si capitolul, in care se povesteste cum a ajuns Signora, maicuta, si i se face putin profilul psihologic. Defapt, aproape tutoror caracterelor li se face un profil —daca mai stau sa scriu mult, incet, incet vad ca incep sa apreciez cartea – de aia mai bine ma opresc acum. Sper sa gasesc mai multe de spus, in viitor.

Celestial alphabet, from Jacques Gaffarels Curiosités innouies, 1637

Celestial alphabet, from Jacques Gaffarel's Curiosités innouies, 1637

Cît despre cercul fraţilor Dupuy, englezii nu erau acolo populari: erau identificaţi cu personagii ca Robertus a Fluctibus, Medicinae Doctor, Eques Auratus şi Armigero oxoniense, împotriva căruia se scriseseră felurite broşuri, luîndu-i-se în dispreţ excesiva încredere în operaţiile oculte ale naturii. Însă în acelaşi cerc era primit un ecleziastic muncit de diavol ca domnul Gaffarel, care, în ceea ce privea credinţa în curiozităţi nemaiauzite, nu se lăsa mai prejos de nici un britanic,

***

Sfătuit de monseniorul Gaffarel (în şoaptă, ca să nu audă ceilalţi frecventatori ai familiei Dupuy, fiindcă nu prea credeau în lucrurile astea) citea Ars Magnesia de Kirker, Tractatus de magnetica vnlnerum curatione de Goclenius, pe Fracastoro, Discursus de unguento armario al lui Fludd, şi Hopolochrisma spongus de Foster. Devenea tot mai ştiutor în a-şi traduce învăţătura în poezie şi a putea într-o bună zi să strălucească în elocinţă, mesager al simpatiei universale, acolo unde era umilit într-una de elocinţă altora.

***

Nu ştiu cît anume ştia Roberto despre enigmele Evreilor, care totuşi erau foarte la modă în timpul acela, dar, dacă-l frecventa pe domnul Gaffarel, cîte ceva ar fi trebuit să audă: fapt e că Evreii pe seama porumbelului construiseră adevărate turnuri.

***

Roberto nu se putea gîndi la Canonicul de Digne, sau la domnul Gaffarel aşternîndu-se cîmpului în galop către închisoarea lui

***

Mare e gradina ta Doamne, probabil ca ar spune cineva care i-ar cunoste pe acesti oameni de stiinta ai vremi. Uneori iti vine greu sa crezi ca au fost personaje reale. Par a fi luati dintr-o poveste. Interesanta metoda de a construi “fantezii”, bazate pe realitate. Daca cineva ar putea calatori in timp, ar fi destul de uimit.

Jacques Gaffarel, pe langa ca era preot, ocultist si astrolog, ajunsese si bibliotecarul lui Richelieu, si a scris cateva carti despre ocultism si alte minuni. “Ocultism”, poate e prea mult spus. Facuse o harta a cerului, si spunea ca stelele seamana cu o scriere ebraica, si ar fi putea citite ca o carte. Ideea este, ca era bagat in fel de fel de teorii aberante, si simtim ca Eco, il ridiculizeaza. Daca Gaffarel a fost unul din mentori lui Roberto, ne putem imagina ce era in mintea bietului baiat. Robertus a Fluctibus, e Robert Fludd, fizician, astrolog si mistic englez, ce nu prea era inghitit de cercul de “intelepti” francezi, al fratilor Dupuy, pe care-l frecventa Roberto.

a form of the (Hebrew) alphabet (magic letters) going back to the Hellenistic period, in which the lines of the letters culminate in rounded points, permitting a later application to the night sky, where patterns of stars (points joined by lines) can then be read as letters, groups of letters read as words, etc. In the process the sky becomes a massive concrete or visual poem, whose words or messages are constantly transforming.

CELESTIAL ALPHABET EVENT The work of a Christian kabbalist of the seventeenth century, it can be best compared to contemporary attempts to model poetic structures on — or read them into — natural phenomena. Here as elsewhere the key is calligraphic: a form of the (Hebrew) alphabet ("magic letters") going back to the Hellenistic period, in which the lines of the letters culminate in rounded points, permitting a later application to the night sky, where patterns of stars (points joined by "lines") can then be read as letters, groups of letters read as words, etc. In the process the sky becomes a massive concrete or visual poem, whose words or "messages" are constantly transforming.

Dr. Robert Fludd, Robertus a Fluctibus, Medicinae Doctor, Eques Auratus şi Armigero oxoniense

Dr. Robert Fludd, Robertus a Fluctibus, Medicinae Doctor, Eques Auratus şi Armigero oxoniense

Curiositez inouyes sur la sculpture talismanique des Persans, horoscope des Patriarches et lecture des estoiles

O pagina din: "Curiositez inouyes sur la sculpture talismanique des Persans, horoscope des Patriarches et lecture des estoiles" de Jacques Gaffarel

“Mai bine faci cinstindu-ţi părintele aşa”, zise Saint-Savin, “cînd ţi-aduci aminte de învăţăturile lui, decît adineauri cînd ascultai latina aia stîlcită din biserică.”

“Domnule de Saint-Savin”, îi răspunsese Roberto, “nu-ţi este teamă că vei sfîrşi pe rug?”

Saint-Savin se mohorî cîteva clipe. “Cînd aveam şi eu mai mult sau mai puţin anii domniei tale, admiram pe cineva care a fost pentru mine ca un frate mai mare. Îl chema Lucilius, ca pe un filosof din antichitate, şi era şi el tot un filosof, şi preot pe deasupra. A sfîrşit pe rug la Toulouse, dar mai întîi i-au smuls limba şi l-au spînzurat. Vezi, deci, că dacă noi filosofii sîntem ascuţiţi la limbă, nu-i numai aşa, cum spunea domnul acela, atunci, seara, ca să fim de bon ton. E ca să tragem foloase din ea înainte să ne fie smulsă. Sau, başca temniţa, s-o rupem cu prejudecăţile şi să descoperim raţiunea firească a lucrurilor.”

***

“You honor your father better now,” Saint-Savin said, “by remembering his teachings, than you did before, listening to that execrable Latin in church.”

“Monsieur de Saint-Savin,” Roberto said to him, “are you not afraid of ending up at the stake?”

Saint-Savin frowned for a moment. “When I was more or less your age, I admired a man who had been an older brother to me. Like an ancient philosopher I called him Lucretius, for he, too, was a philosopher, and moreover a priest. He ended up at the stake in Toulouse, but first they tore out his tongue and strangled him. And so you see that if we philosophers are quick of tongue, it is not simply, as that gentleman said the other evening, to give ourselves ban ton. It is to put the tongue to good use before they rip it out. Or, rather, jesting aside, to dispel prejudice and to discover the natural cause of Creation.”

***

“State meglio onorando vostro padre ora,” disse Saint-Savin “ricordandone gli insegnamenti, che prima quando ascoltavate un cattivo latino in chiesa.”

“Signor di Saint-Savin,” gli aveva detto Roberto, “non temete di finire sul rogo?”

Saint-Savin si incupì per un istante. “Quando avevo più o meno la vostra età ammiravo quello che è stato per me come un fratello maggiore. Come un filosofo antico lo chiamavo Lucrezio, ed era filosofo anch’esso, e prete per giunta. È finito sul rogo a Tolosa, ma prima gli hanno strappato la lingua e l’hanno strangolato. E quindi vedete che se noi filosofi siamo svelti di lingua non è solo, come diceva quel signore l’altra sera, per darci bon ton. È per trarne partito prima che ce la strappino. Ovvero, celie a parte, per rompere coi pregiudizi e scoprire la ragione naturale delle cose.”

Incep sa ma ameteasca traducerile astea si tot nu-i dau de capat cine-i Saint Savin. Bergerac nu are cum sa fie, pentru ca Bergerac s-a nascut in 1619, anul morti lui Vanini. Saint Savin, zice ca Vanini ii era ca un frate mai mare si il admira cand avea varsta de vreo 16 ani. In versiunea Engleza si Italiana zice ca Saint Savin il numea pe acest prieten Lucretius, ca pe un filosof din antichitate. Traducerea romana zice cu totul altceva. Ii zice pe numele adevarat: Lucilius.  Akuma nu cred ca Lucilius si Lucretiu sunt acelasi lucru dar ma pot insela. Oricum totce tine de traduceri e interesant. Cuvantul “Lucilius”, m-a ajutat mai mult sa-l dibuiesc pe acest prieten, ca nu prea ajungeam nicaieri, doar cu “Lucretiu”, “ars pe rug” si “Toulouse”. Din pacate nu am gasit multe informatii si biografiile pe care le-am gasit sunt uneori contradictorii si incomplete. Mai sunt mentiuni si in cateva carti de pe la 1700 -1800 …dar tot nu-mi place cum suna. Asta e. Trebuie sa ne mutumim cu ce avem. Prietenul lui Savin, e un personaj foarte interesant si se numeste Lucilio Vanini. Inainte sa bag biografiile, am sa mai zic doua lucruri. Ce sare in ochi la Vanini: e condamnat de ateism desi pare a fi panteist, propune ca oameni s-ar trage din maimute (asta e putin trasa de urechi, dar neavand textele originale, ramanem la ce mai citim pe ici pe colo) si se pare ca este impotrvia nemuriri sufletului, la fel ca “filosoful din antichitate” Lucretiu. La acesti filosofi tinzi sa gasesti lucruri interesante dar si multe aberatii specifice timpului. Asta se intampla cand vrei sa construiesti o teorie care sa explice “totul”, si uiti la ce nivel esti, in acel moment al istoriei. Se pare ca nici eu nu sunt la mare nivel, ca nu se intelege nimica din ce vreau sa spun :)

Lucilio Vanini

Lucilio Vanini

Vanini, Giulio Cesare

1. Dates

Born: Taurisano, Lecce (Southern Italy), c. 1585

Died: Toulouse, France, 9 February 1619

Dateinfo: Birth Uncertain

Lifespan: 34

2. Father

Occupation: Government Official

Vanini was the son of Giovanni Battista Vanini, a local official, and a Spanish noblewoman. His father was seventy years old when he was born.

Namer is unambiguous in saying that the parents were affluent. They had a fine house in Taurisano and other property as well. I will accept this. Nevertheless I do note that Vanini had to enter a religious order to be able to complete his university education. The situation is obscure. He entered the University of Naples in 1599; he took orders in 1603. Sometime near then his father died, and Vanini was not the eldest son. Perhaps this was involved in his entering the order.

3. Nationality

Birth: Italian

Career: Italian, English, French

Death: French

4. Education

Schooling: Naples, LD; Padua

Vanini earned a doctorate in canon and civil law from the University of Naples on 6 June 1606. As with all such cases, I assume a B.A. or its equivalent.

He enrolled in the faculty of theology in Padua in 1608, and was there until 1612. There is no record of a degree.

5. Religion

Affiliation: Catholic, Heterodox

Vanini became a Carmelite friar about 1603.

When studying in Padua, Vanini showed himself unambiguously in favor of Venice in the republic’s dispute with the Papacy. The general of his order commanded him to return to the house in Naples, where he would have been disciplined, probably severely. Instead Vanini sought refuge with the English ambassador to Venice in 1612, and he went secretly to England where he publicly renounced Catholicism. Already in 1613 the English experience had paled, and he appealed to the Pope to be received back in the Church, not as a friar, but as a secular priest. The request was granted by the Pope himself. When the Archbishop of Canterbury learned of Vanini’s plans, he had him imprisoned, but Vanini succeeded in escaping to France.

Well before this Vanini had been flirting with radical ideas, which found expression in two books published in France. He is known as the prince of libertins. He was accused of atheism. Whatever the truth of this, there seems no doubt that he held radically heterodox opinions. He advanced a naturalistic philosophy according to which the world is eternal and governed by immanent laws. For him all of nature with its immanent laws is what divine providence means. He held that the human soul, which is similar to animal souls is mortal. For these ideas Vanini’s book was condemned and three years later, in 1619, known under the pseudonym, Pompeo Uciglio, he was savagely executed in Toulouse.

6. Scientific Disciplines

Primary: Natural Philosophy

Vanini published two books in France after the English interlude–Amphitheatrum aeternae providentiae divino-magicum. Christiano-physicum, nec non astrologo-catholicum. Aversus veteres philosophos, 1615, and De admirandis naturae reginae deaeque mortalium arcanis, 1616. It was for these two, especially the second, that he was condemned and forced to flee Paris, and for opinions like those in the second that he was then executed in 1619.

On the basis of these works Vanini can be seen as one of the first who began to treat nature as a machine governed by laws.

7. Means of Support

Primary: Patronage

Secondary: Church Life, Schoolmastering, Medicine

Vanini was originally a Carmelite friar. After completing his degree in Naples in 1606, he remained in the area of Naples for two years, apparently as a friar. He then went on to Padua in 1608, and there he lived in the monastery of his order.

In 1612, as he waited on the negotiations that granted him asylum in England, he lived in Bologna, supporting himself as a teacher.

The trip to England was financed by the patronage of the English ambassador, and in England he lived entirely (and increasingly unhappily) on the patronage of George Abbot, the Archbishop of Canterbury.

After his escape from England he went to Genoa where he was the teacher of Giacomo Doria, of that prominent family.

In Paris, 1615-16, he lived on the patronage of Arthur d’Epinay de Saint Luc, abbé de Redon and Bishop of Marseille, and after he was forced to flee Paris he found refuge for several months at the monastery of Redon in Brittainy.

After he fled on from Redon, Vanini supported himself for a time by practising medicine under an assumed name.

In Toulouse he lived as the client of the highest aristocrats, especially the Comte de Caraman. Part of his function as client was teaching.

8. Patronage

Types: Government Official, Eccesiastic Official, Aristrocrat

Vanini was a charismatic character, and wherever he went he collected patrons like flies around honey. This started in Padua where he charmed the English ambassador to Venice, Sir Dudley Carleton, right out of his shoes. Carleton arranged for Vanini’s escape to England in 1612 and financed the trip.

In England the Archbishop of Canterbury agreed to receive Vanini on Carleton’s recommendation. For a time Vanini exerted the same charm on Abbot, who arranged for his public conversion in June 1612, and supported him, though not in a way that pleased Vanini, during his stay in England.

When Vanini decided to get out of England, Antonio Foscarini, the Venetian ambassador, provided support. Someone helped to arrange his escape, and it was probably Foscarini.

After England he went briefly to Genoa where he became the teacher, and client, of Giacomo Doria.

Vanini dedicated his Amphitheatrum, 1615, to Francesco di Castro, Conte di Castro, the protector of his family back in Taurisano. In the dedication Vanini refers to him as his generous maecenas.

In Paris he became the client of the abbé de Redon, at whose house in stayed. When the storm broke in 1616, Vanini found refuge for a time in the monastery of Redon.

Meanwhile he had dedicated the book that caused the storm, De admirandis arcanis, 1616, to the abbé’s uncle, M. (soon to be maréchal) de Bassombpierre.

As I said, Vanini collected patrons as he went. Apparently libertin aristocrats lapped up his radical ideas, served up as they were with verve, irreverence, and charm. He no sooner arrived in Toulouse, travelling under an assumed name, than he became the client of Jean de Bertier de Montrabe, the third president (there were first and second presidents at the same time) of the Parlement of Toulouse. More important than Bertier was the Comte de Caraman, of whose nephew Vanini became tutor.

Namer’s book gives a good account of his patronage.

9. Technological Involvement

Type: Medical Practice

10. Scientific Societies

Memberships: None

Sources

  1. Emile Namer, La vie et l’oeuvre de J.C. Vanini, prince des libertins, (Paris, 1980).
  2. Andrzej Nowicki, Giulio Cesare Vanini, 1585-1619, (Accademia Polacco della Scienze, Bibliotheca e centro di studi a Roma. Conferenze 39), (Wroclaw, 1968).

Not Available and Not Consulted

  1. Emile Namer, Documents sur la vie de Jules-César Vanini de Taurisano (publ. dell’Istituto di Filosofia (1). Univ. degli studi di Bari), (Bari, n.d.). _____, “L’oeuvre de Jules-César Vanini (1585-1619): une anthropologie philosophique,” in Studi in onore di Antonio Corsano, (Manduria, 1970).
  2. _____, “Vanini et la préparation de l’esprit scientifique a l’aube du XVIIe siècle,” Revue d’histoire des sciences et de leur applications, 25 (1972), 207-20.
  3. Don Cameron Allen, Doubt’s Boundless Sea: Skepticism and Faith in the Renaissance, (Baltimore, 1964), pp. 58-74.
  4. J.-Roger Charbonnel, La pensée italienne au XVIe siècle et le courant libertin, (Paris, 1919), pp. 302-83.
  5. William L. Hine, “Mersenne and Vanini,” Renaissance Quarterly, c.
  6. 1976.
  7. Raffaele Palumbo, Giulio Cesare Vanini e i suoi tempi, (Naples, 1878). This list does not begin to exhaust the extensive literature on Vanini. After I had found Namer’s book, which is recent and authoritative, there seemed no point in reading further.

Compiled by:

Richard S. Westfall

Department of History and Philosophy of Science

Indiana University

***

Lucilio Vanini, born in 1585, was an Italian philosopher, learned in
medicine, astronomy, theology, and philosophy, who, after the fashion of
the scholars of the age, roamed from country to country, like the knight-
errants of the days of chivalry, seeking for glory and honours, not by the
sword, but by learning. This Vanini was a somewhat vain and ridiculous
person. Not content with his Christian name Lucilio, he assumed the
grandiloquent and high-sounding cognomen of Julius Caesar, wishing to
attach to himself some of the glory of the illustrious founder of the
Roman empire. As the proud Roman declared _Veni, Vidi, Vici_, so would he
carry on the same victorious career, subduing all rival philosophers by
the power of his eloquence and learning. He visited Naples, wandered
through France, Germany, the Netherlands, Switzerland, and England, and
finally stationed himself in France, first at Lyons, and then in a convent
at Toulouse. At Lyons he produced his famous and fatal book,
_Amphitheatrum aeternae providentiae divino-magicum Christiano-Physicum,
nec non Astrologo-Catholicum_ (Lugduni, 1616). It was published with the
royal assent, but afterwards brought upon its author the charge of
Atheism. He concealed the poison most carefully; for apparently he
defended the belief in the Divine Providence and in the immortality of the
soul, but with consummate skill and subtilty he taught that which he
pretended to refute, and led his readers to see the force of the arguments
against the Faith of which he posed as a champion. By a weak and feeble
defence, by foolish arguments and ridiculous reasoning, he secretly
exposed the whole Christian religion to ridicule. But if any doubts were
left whether this was done designedly or unintentionally, they were
dispelled by his second work, _De admirandis naturae reginae deaeque
mortalium arcanis_ (Paris, 1616), which, published in the form of sixty
dialogues, contained many profane statements. In this work also he adopted
his previous plan of pretending to demolish the arguments against the
Faith, while he secretly sought to establish them. He says that he had
wandered through Europe fighting against the Atheists wherever he met with
them. He describes his disputations with them, carefully recording all
their arguments; he concludes each dialogue by saying that he reduced the
Atheists to silence, but with strange modesty he does not inform his
readers what reasonings he used, and practically leaves the carefully
drawn up atheistical arguments unanswered. The Inquisition did not approve
of this subtle method of teaching Atheism, and ordered him to be confined
in prison, and then to be burned alive. This sentence was carried out at
Toulouse in 1619, in spite of his protestations of innocence, and the
arguments which he brought forward before his judges to prove the
existence of God. Some have tried to free Vanini from the charge of
Atheism, but there is abundant evidence of his guilt apart from his books.
The tender mercies of the Inquisition were cruel, and could not allow so
notable a victim to escape their vengeance. Whether to burn a man is the
surest way to convert him, is a question open to argument. Vanini
disguised his insidious teaching carefully, but it required a thick veil
to deceive the eyes of Inquisitors, who were wonderfully clever in spying
out heresy, and sometimes thought they had discovered it even when it was
not there. Vanini and many other authors would have been wiser if they had
not committed their ideas to writing, and contented themselves with words
only. _Litera scripta manet_; and disguise it, twist it, explain it, as
you will, there it stands, a witness for your acquittal or your
condemnation. This thought stays the course of the most restless pen,
though the racks and fires of the Inquisition no longer threaten the
incautious scribe. BOOKS FATAL TO THEIR AUTHORS BY P. H. DITCHFIELD 1854-1930

***
Ardere pe rug

“Jesus facing death sweated with fear, I die undaunted.”

Vanini, Giulio Cesare (1585 – 9 February 1619)

Vanini was educated in philosophy and theology at Rome University and took the priesthood after studying the canon law in Padua about 1603. He traveled widely throughout Europe, espousing his rationalist viewpoint and supporting himself by giving lessons. A freethinking priest alleged to be a believer in witchcraft and denying the current views on immortality, he said he knew that the world could not have been created out of nothing and said Jesus was not divine. As a result, Lucilio – who gave himself the name Julius Caesar – was driven from one country to another, preaching such views in France, England, Holland, and Germany. In Paris, he reportedly had fifty thousand followers at one point. When he took refuge in England, he spent 49 days in the Tower of London. In southern France, he published a book critical of atheism in 1615, in an attempt to clear himself from charges of heresy. But the following year his second book was published and is credited with being closer to his real views, in which he advanced a naturalistic philosophy, calling the human soul mortal. The book was ordered burned by the Sorbonne, and Vanini was charged with atheism. Four of his books made the Vatican’s Index Librorum Prohibitorum.

He was arrested in 1618 in Toulouse. After being found guilty, he was condemned, as an atheist, to have his tongue cut off, to be strangled at the stake, and to have his body burned to ashes. It is said he refused the ministration of a priest. An anti-Christian critic of scholasticism, he is credited with laying the foundation of modern philosophy. An attempt was made to force him to beg God, the king, and the judicial body for pardon, but he insisted he believed neither in God nor in the Devil. During the French Revolution, Maréchal cited Vanini as being one of the greatest atheists of all time. J. M. Robertson, however, wrote,

  • He was in fact a deist with the inevitable leaning of the philosophic theist to pantheism; and whatever he may have said to arouse priestly hatred at Toulouse, he was rather less of an atheist than Spinoza or Bruno or John Scotus.

The Church brought him to trial, he was convicted at Toulouse by the voices of the majority. At the trial, he protested his belief in God and defended the existence of Deity with the flimsiest arguments, so flimsy, noted Foote, that one can easily suspect he was pouring irony on the judges. They found him guilty, ordered that his tongue be cut out, then that he burned alive. It is said that, afterwards, he confessed, took the communion, and declared himself ready to subscribe to the Church tenets.

However, the sentence was carried out on the same day, February 9, 1619. Drawn on a hurdle, in his shirt, with a placard on his shoulders inscribed “Atheist and Blasphemer of the name of God,” he cried out in Italian that he rejoiced to die like a philosopher. “Jesus facing death sweated with fear,” he said. “I die undaunted.” Or, as described by President Gramond, author of History of France Under Louis XIII,

  • I saw him in the tumbril as they led him to execution, mocking the Cordelier who had been sent to exhort him to repentance, and insulting our Savior by these impious words, ‘He sweated with fear and weakness, and I die undaunted.’

Before burning him, his Christian benefactors did tear out his tongue by the roots, although he was said to have been so obstinate they had to use pincers. One Christian historian found humorous the victim’s long cry of agony. Vanini then was strangled, his body was burned in Toulouse, and the ashes of the thirty-four-year-old person described as the Antichrist, the disciple of Satan, were scattered to the wind.

http://www.philosopedia.org/index.php/Giulio_Cesare_Vanini

***

In General Sketch of the History of Pantheism -1878 , sunt cateva lucruri interesante despre Vanini. Cateva citate:

“There is neither God nor devil: for if there was a God, I would pray Him to send a thunderbolt on the Council as all that is unjust and iniquitous; and if there were a devil I would pray him to engulf them in the subterranean regions; but since there is neither one nor the other, there is nothing for me to do.”

***

“The world”, says Vanini in another place “is perhaps an animal of which we are all members.”“

***

“His speculations concerning the origin of life are very interesting, and the arguments he advances for and against his own theories are somewhat curious through the undoubted resemblance they bear to the arguments one hears so frequently brought against the Evolution Theory in our own day.

‘According to Diodorus Siculus,’ says Vanini, ‘the first man was brought forth out of the slime of the earth.’ ‘But if so,’ observed Alexander, ‘how doth it happen that in five hundred thousand years, since which the world hath formed itself (according to that atheist), how is it, I say, that there hath not been one brought forth in that manner?’

‘Nevertheless,’ replied Vanini, ‘ he is not the only one who hath taken taht story for truth. Witness the opinion of Cardanus: he believes that as the smaller animals, mice and fishes, are produced by putrefaction, it is very probable that the greater animals, and even all in general, are derived from them also.’

‘A handsome method of reasoning,’ replied Alexander. ‘A mouse may be broıght forth out of putrefaction; therefore a man may also. Are there not still sufficient heaps of filth and slime? Why, then, is there not sometimes a horse, sometimes an ox produced from it?’

‘That’s right,’ replied Vanini; ‘but Diodorus Siculus relates that there is a certain part of the Nile, where it overflows, leaving behind it, as it were, a bed of mud, from which, when heated by the sun, there are produced animals of a monstrous size.’

‘That’s well,’ replied Alexander; ‘but as for me I never could believe such a lie.’

‘Others have dreamed,’ remarked Vanini, ‘that the first man had taken his origin from mud, putrefied by the corruption of certain monkeys, swine, and frogs; and thence, they say, proceeds the great resemblance there is betwixt our flesh and propensities with those of these creatures. Other atheist more mild have thought that none but the Ethiopians are produced from a race of monkeys, because the same degree of heat is found in both.’

“205. When I consider the short duration of my life, swallowed up in the

eternity before and after, the little space which I fill and even can see,
engulfed in the infinite immensity of spaces of which I am ignorant and
which know me not, I am frightened and am astonished at being here rather
than there; for there is no reason why here rather than there, why now
rather than then. Who has put me here? By whose order and direction have
this place and time been allotted to me? Memoria hospitis unius diei
praetereuntis. [27]

206. The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me.”  Blaise Pascal – Pensees

Zilele astea am sa incerc sa fac biografiile personajelor gasite in Insula, si mult mai incolo, cand voi fi citit mult mai multe despre fiecare, ma voi putea angaja cu adevarat intr-o discutie “cu ei” (sa zic asa). Pascal imi aminteste de bunicu, el zicea ca e mai bine sa crezi in Dumnezeu, decat sa nu crezi. Daca crezi, si dupa ce mori afli ca ai avut dreptate, ai multe de castigat, rai, rauri de lapte si miere etc. Daca crezi, si nu exista, nu ai nimic de pierdut- daca nu crezi si exista te pun draci la fiert, ti-o trag pe la spate si te inteapa cu furculitele :). Intotdeauna acest rationament mi s-a parut stupid. Daca Dumnezeu intradevar exista, oare chiar il putem duce cu presu ca pe ultimul mascarici? In fine… Unde apare Pascal? In frumosul dialog ce urmeaza. Apropo, am mai gasit nishte diferente intre versiunea in romana a carti pe care o am eu si cea in engleza si italiana. Probabil ca versiunea electronica a carti este gresita. Va trebui sa cumpar cartea ca sa verific, dar oricum voi folosi si versiunea electronica pentru ca e mult mai usor cu Copy- Paste. Diferenta despre care vorbesc e:  “Bietul băiat”, zisese libertinul, “el construieşte maşini ca să numere infinitul” – “Poor boy,” the libertine then said, “he builds machines to count the finite” – “Povero ragazzo,” aveva detto il libertino, “lui costruisce macchine per contare il finito“. Deci nu e “infinitul” ci “finitul”, in propozitia respectiva.

Roberto îşi amintea de răspunsul unui tînăr de nouăsprezece ani, care într-o zi la Paris fusese învitat la o reuniune a prietenilor săi filosofi, pentru că se spunea că proiectează o maşină capabilă să facă calcule aritmetice. Roberto nu înţelesese bine cum trebuia să funcţioneze maşina, şi-l considerase pe băiatul acela (poate din acreală) prea şters, prea sobru şi prea încrezut pentru vîrsta lui, în timp ce prietenii săi libertini îl învăţau că poţi deveni ştiutor într-un mod mai vesel. Şi aşa de puţin suportase asta încît, ajunşi să vorbească despre vid, tînărul voise să-şi spună şi el părerea, şi chiar cu o anume cutezanţă: “S-a vorbit prea mult de vid pînă acum. Acum e necesar să fie demonstrat prin experienţă”. Şi o spunea ca şi cum datoria aceea într-o bună zi avea să-i revină lui.
Roberto îl întrebase la ce experienţe se gîndea, iar băiatul îi spusese că nu ştia încă. Roberto, ca să-l ruşineze, îi propusese toate obiecţiile filosofice pe care le cunoştea: dacă vidul ar fi, nu ar fi materie (care e plină), nu ar fi spirit, pentru că nu se poate concepe un spirit care să fie gol, nu ar exista Dumnezeu, pentru ca ar fi lipsit pînă şi de sine, nu ar fi nici substanţă nici accident, ar transmite lumina fără să fie hialin… Ce anume ar fi atunci?
Băiatul răspunsese cu o anume siguranţă, ţinînd ochii în jos: “Poate că ar fi ceva la jumătatea drumului între materie şi nimic, şi nu ar face parte nici dintr-una nici din cealaltă. S-ar deosebi de nimic prin dimensiunea lui, de materie prin nemişcarea lui. Ar fi un fel de a nu-fi. Nici presupunere, nici abstracţie. Ar fi (cum aş putea să spun?) un fapt. Pur şi simplu.”
“Ce anume este un fapt pur şi simplu, lipsit de orice determinare?” întrebase cu trufie academică Roberto, care de altfel despre subiectul în discuţie nu era prevenit, şi voia şi el să spună lucruri încrezute.
“Nu ştiu să definesc ceea ce este pur şi simplu”, răspunsese tînărul. “Pe de altă parte, domnule, cum aţi defini fiinţa? Ca s-o definiţi ar trebui să spuneţi că este ceva. Deci pentru a defini fiinţa trebuie să ziceţi şi este, şi astfel să folosiţi în definiţie termenul de definit. Eu cred că există termeni imposibil de definit, şi poate că vidul e unul dintre aceştia. Dar poate că greşesc.”
“Nu greşiţi. Vidul este ca timpul”, comentase unul dintre amicii libertini ai lui Roberto. “Timpul nu este numărul mişcării, pentru că mişcarea e aceea care depinde de timp, şi nu invers; este infinit, increat, continuu, nu e un accident în spaţiu… Timpul este, şi gata. Spaţiul este, şi atîta tot.”
Cineva protestase, zicînd că un lucru care este şi atîta tot, fără să aibe o esenţă definibilă, este ca şi cum n-ar fi. “Domnilor”, spusese atunci Canonicul de Digne, “e adevărat, spaţiul şi timpul nu sînt nici corp nici spirit, sînt imateriale, dacă voiţi, dar asta nu înseamnă că nu sînt reale. Nu sînt accidente şi nu sînt substanţă, şi totuşi au venit înainte de creaţie, înainte de orice substanţă şi de orice accident, şi vor exista şi după distrugerea oricărei substanţe. Sînt inalterabile şi invariabile, orişice lucru aţi pune înlăuntrul lor.”
“Dar”, obiectase Roberto, “spaţiul este totuşi întins, iar întinderea este proprietate a corpurilor…”
“Nu”, replicase prietenul cel libertin, “Faptul că toate corpurile sînt întinse nu înseamnă că tot ceea ce este întins este corp ― aşa cum ar voi nu ştiu care domn, care între altele nu s-ar deranja să-mi răspundă de ce pare că nu mai vrea să se întoarcă din Olanda. Întinderea este dispunerea a tot ce este. Spaţiul este întindere absolută, eternă, infinită, increată, neinscriptibilă, necircumscrisă şi imperisabilă. Ca şi timpul, e fără apunere, neîncetat şi imperisabil, e un fenix arab, un şarpe care-şi muşcă coada…”
“Domnule”, zisese Canonicul, “să nu punem însă spaţiul în locul lui Dumnezeu…”
“Domnule”, răspunsese libertinul, “nu puteţi să ne sugeraţi nişte idei pe care toţi le considerăm adevărate, şi apoi să pretindeţi să nu tragem din ele ultimele consecinţe. Bănuiesc că la punctul ăsta nu mai avem nevoie de Dumnezeu şi nici de infinitatea sa, deoarece avem deja destule infinituri în toate părţile, ce ne reduc la nişte umbre care durează o singură clipă fără întoarcere. Şi atunci propun să lăsăm deoparte orice teamă, şi să ne ducem cu toţii la birt.”
Canonicul, scuturînd din cap, îşi luase rămas bun. Şi la fel şi tînărul, care părea foarte tulburat de discuţiile acelea, cu ochii plecaţi se scuzase şi ceruse permisiunea să se întoarcă acasă.
“Bietul băiat”, zisese libertinul, “el construieşte maşini ca să numere infinitul, iar noi l-am înspăimîntat cu tăcerea eternă a prea multor infinituri. Voila, iată sfîrşitul unei frumoase vocaţii.”
“N-o să suporte lovitura”, zisese un altul dintre pirronieni, “o să caute să încheie pace cu lumea şi-o să sfîrşească printre iezuiţi!”

Pascal n-a sfarsit printre Iezuiti, ci printre Jansenisti, dar tot cam pe akolo e :) Cate secte, ordine si miscari religioase mai sunt, ca nu le mai dai de capat.

Pascaline

Masina care face calcule aritmetice, a fost proiectata de Pascal si se numeste Pascaline. De asemenea a facut experimente cu barometrul si a scris cateva tratate despre vidul din tubul cu mercur. O biografie luata de aici:

Blaise Pascal

Blaise Pascal

Blaise Pascal was the third of Étienne Pascal’s children and his only son. Blaise’s mother died when he was only three years old. In 1632 the Pascal family, Étienne and his four children, left Clermont and settled in Paris. Blaise Pascal’s father had unorthodox educational views and decided to teach his son himself. Étienne Pascal decided that Blaise was not to study mathematics before the age of 15 and all mathematics texts were removed from their house. Blaise however, his curiosity raised by this, started to work on geometry himself at the age of 12. He discovered that the sum of the angles of a triangle are two right angles and, when his father found out, he relented and allowed Blaise a copy of Euclid.

At the age of 14 Blaise Pascal started to accompany his father to Mersenne’s meetings. Mersenne belonged to the religious order of the Minims, and his cell in Paris was a frequent meeting place for Gassendi, Roberval, Carcavi, Auzout, Mydorge, Mylon, Desargues and others. Soon, certainly by the time he was 15, Blaise came to admire the work of Desargues. At the age of sixteen, Pascal presented a single piece of paper to one of Mersenne’s meetings in June 1639. It contained a number of projective geometry theorems, including Pascal’s mystic hexagon.

In December 1639 the Pascal family left Paris to live in Rouen where Étienne had been appointed as a tax collector for Upper Normandy. Shortly after settling in Rouen, Blaise had his first work, Essay on Conic Sections published in February 1640.

Pascal invented the first digital calculator to help his father with his work collecting taxes. He worked on it for three years between 1642 and 1645. The device, called the Pascaline, resembled a mechanical calculator of the 1940s. This, almost certainly, makes Pascal the second person to invent a mechanical calculator for Schickard had manufactured one in 1624.

There were problems faced by Pascal in the design of the calculator which were due to the design of the French currency at that time. There were 20 sols in a livre and 12 deniers in a sol. The system remained in France until 1799 but in Britain a system with similar multiples lasted until 1971. Pascal had to solve much harder technical problems to work with this division of the livre into 240 than he would have had if the division had been 100. However production of the machines started in 1642 but, as Adamson writes in [3],

By 1652 fifty prototypes had been produced, but few machines were sold, and manufacture of Pascal’s arithmetical calculator ceased in that year.

Events of 1646 were very significant for the young Pascal. In that year his father injured his leg and had to recuperate in his house. He was looked after by two young brothers from a religious movement just outside Rouen. They had a profound effect on the young Pascal and he became deeply religious.

From about this time Pascal began a series of experiments on atmospheric pressure. By 1647 he had proved to his satisfaction that a vacuum existed. Descartes visited Pascal on 23 September. His visit only lasted two days and the two argued about the vacuum which Descartes did not believe in. Descartes wrote, rather cruelly, in a letter to Huygens after this visit that Pascal

…has too much vacuum in his head.

In August of 1648 Pascal observed that the pressure of the atmosphere decreases with height and deduced that a vacuum existed above the atmosphere. Descartes wrote to Carcavi in June 1647 about Pascal’s experiments saying:-

It was I who two years ago advised him to do it, for although I have not performed it myself, I did not doubt of its success …

In October 1647 Pascal wrote New Experiments Concerning Vacuums which led to disputes with a number of scientists who, like Descartes, did not believe in a vacuum.

Étienne Pascal died in September 1651 and following this Blaise wrote to one of his sisters giving a deeply Christian meaning to death in general and his father’s death in particular. His ideas here were to form the basis for his later philosophical work Pensées.

From May 1653 Pascal worked on mathematics and physics writing Treatise on the Equilibrium of Liquids (1653) in which he explains Pascal’s law of pressure. Adamson writes in [3]:-

This treatise is a complete outline of a system of hydrostatics, the first in the history of science, it embodies his most distinctive and important contribution to physical theory.

He worked on conic sections and produced important theorems in projective geometry. In The Generation of Conic Sections (mostly completed by March 1648 but worked on again in 1653 and 1654) Pascal considered conics generated by central projection of a circle. This was meant to be the first part of a treatise on conics which Pascal never completed. The work is now lost but Leibniz and Tschirnhaus made notes from it and it is through these notes that a fairly complete picture of the work is now possible.

Although Pascal was not the first to study the Pascal triangle, his work on the topic in Treatise on the Arithmetical Triangle was the most important on this topic and, through the work of Wallis, Pascal’s work on the binomial coefficients was to lead Newton to his discovery of the general binomial theorem for fractional and negative powers.

In correspondence with Fermat he laid the foundation for the theory of probability. This correspondence consisted of five letters and occurred in the summer of 1654. They considered the dice problem, already studied by Cardan, and the problem of points also considered by Cardan and, around the same time, Pacioli and Tartaglia. The dice problem asks how many times one must throw a pair of dice before one expects a double six while the problem of points asks how to divide the stakes if a game of dice is incomplete. They solved the problem of points for a two player game but did not develop powerful enough mathematical methods to solve it for three or more players.

Through the period of this correspondence Pascal was unwell. In one of the letters to Fermat written in July 1654 he writes

… though I am still bedridden, I must tell you that yesterday evening I was given your letter.

However, despite his health problems, he worked intensely on scientific and mathematical questions until October 1654. Sometime around then he nearly lost his life in an accident. The horses pulling his carriage bolted and the carriage was left hanging over a bridge above the river Seine. Although he was rescued without any physical injury, it does appear that he was much affected psychologically. Not long after he underwent another religious experience, on 23 November 1654, and he pledged his life to Christianity.

After this time Pascal made visits to the Jansenist monastery Port-Royal des Champs about 30 km south west of Paris. He began to publish anonymous works on religious topics, eighteen Provincial Letters being published during 1656 and early 1657. These were written in defence of his friend Antoine Arnauld, an opponent of the Jesuits and a defender of Jansenism, who was on trial before the faculty of theology in Paris for his controversial religious works. Pascal’s most famous work in philosophy is Pensées, a collection of personal thoughts on human suffering and faith in God which he began in late 1656 and continued to work on during 1657 and 1658. This work contains ‘Pascal’s wager’ which claims to prove that belief in God is rational with the following argument.

If God does not exist, one will lose nothing by believing in him, while if he does exist, one will lose everything by not believing.

With ‘Pascal’s wager’ he uses probabilistic and mathematical arguments but his main conclusion is that

…we are compelled to gamble…

His last work was on the cycloid, the curve traced by a point on the circumference of a rolling circle. In 1658 Pascal started to think about mathematical problems again as he lay awake at night unable to sleep for pain. He applied Cavalieri’s calculus of indivisibles to the problem of the area of any segment of the cycloid and the centre of gravity of any segment. He also solved the problems of the volume and surface area of the solid of revolution formed by rotating the cycloid about the x-axis.

Pascal published a challenge offering two prizes for solutions to these problems to Wren, Laloubère, Leibniz, Huygens, Wallis, Fermat and several other mathematicians. Wallis and Laloubère entered the competition but Laloubère’s solution was wrong and Wallis was also not successful. Sluze, Ricci, Huygens, Wren and Fermat all communicated their discoveries to Pascal without entering the competition. Wren had been working on Pascal’s challenge and he in turn challenged Pascal, Fermat and Roberval to find the arc length, the length of the arch, of the cycloid.

Pascal published his own solutions to his challenge problems in the Letters to Carcavi. After that time on he took little interest in science and spent his last years giving to the poor and going from church to church in Paris attending one religious service after another.

Pascal died at the age of 39 in intense pain after a malignant growth in his stomach spread to the brain. He is described in [3] as:-

… a man of slight build with a loud voice and somewhat overbearing manner. … he lived most of his adult life in great pain. He had always been in delicate health, suffering even in his youth from migraine …

His character is described as:-

… precocious, stubbornly persevering, a perfectionist, pugnacious to the point of bullying ruthlessness yet seeking to be meek and humble …

In [1] the following assessment is given:-

At once a physicist, a mathematician, an eloquent publicist in the Provinciales … Pascal was embarrassed by the very abundance of his talents. It has been suggested that it was his too concrete turn of mind that prevented his discovering the infinitesimal calculus, and in some of the Provinciales the mysterious relations of human beings with God are treated as if they were a geometrical problem. But these considerations are far outweighed by the profit that he drew from the multiplicity of his gifts, his religious writings are rigorous because of his scientific training…

Article by: J J O’Connor and E F Robertson

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