320
pages, Little, Brown and Company, ISBN-13: 978-0316545310
And
so we come to A World Lit Only by Fire:
The Medieval Mind and the Renaissance. Portrait of an Age (that’s some
handle for such a slim book; indeed, William Manchester in his Author’s Note says
“It is, after all, a slight work, with no scholarly pretensions. All the
sources are secondary, and few are new; I have not mastered recent scholarship
on the early sixteenth century”). This author, the deceased American author,
biographer, and historian, scathingly posits, as the title suggests, that the
Middle Ages were 10 Centuries of technological stagnation, short-sightedness,
bloodshed, feudalism, and an oppressive Church, all wedged in-between the
golden ages of the Roman Empire and the Renaissance. Although I have since
expanded my knowledge of this period since then and have found a great deal of
fault with Manchester’s characterizations, when I first read this book as a kid
it was the first such work I came across that shown even a little bit of light
on the “Dark Ages” of which I then knew so very, very little. As such, I find
myself revering it, even still.
In
spite of the title, A World Lit Only by
Fire is largely about the Catholic Church and the Reformation: the section
entitled The Shattering is by far
that is the longest of the three essays that make up the whole, while the other
two – The Medieval Mind and One Man Alone – are each shorter
overviews of the long darkness of the medieval period and a study of the first
circumnavigation of the world by Magellan (and his Asian manservant). Be
forewarned that Manchester gets a lot of the Middle Ages wrong; while he doesn’t
make up facts, he presents some highly selected anecdotes and bases fairly wild
conclusions on each careful selection. For instance, he says that no
technological progress occurred during the Middle Ages, but reading even the
title of the book Cathedral, Forge and
Waterwheel: Technology and Invention in the Middle Ages (now in its 60th edition!) proves
otherwise. For another instance, he professes to believe that medieval man had
no sense of self, “a total lack of ego”, because there are no signatures or
records of those who built the cathedrals…yet if we look at any modern
construction project – bridge, skyscraper, jet – we likewise find no
signatures, no egos except those of the corporation which built it. Are we
modern people, then, also without ego? Er, not exactly. But this is not a
scholarly work, and does not profess to be: it is “popular history” at its most
popular, written to be entertaining, first and foremost. There are numerous factual
errors made and conclusions drawn which may not be able to be substantiated in
places, and seems to thoroughly enjoy the R-rated aspects of the medieval
church: I think it is clear that the book has to be read as opinion rather than
“this is exactly how it was” with things that interest the author getting the
limelight (and as he warned in his Author’s Note, quoted above). To a degree, this
grates on me because it makes me wonder about what else Manchester wrote, like the
somber, dignified story of the Kennedy Assassination Death of a President, or the superb unfinished biography of
Churchill The Last Lion; do they
suffer the same errors and opinions masquerading as facts? I can only assume
that, having survived the serious illness that he mentions at the start of this
book, Manchester was in a “what the hell!” mood and just let ‘er rip.
This
book is not really about the medieval mind, or even the Renaissance: it’s
mostly about the birth of the concept of the modern Nation-State replacing the
greater concept of Christendom and then how those early explorers created the
ability for the Western World to seed itself all over the globe. A World Lit Only by Fire is lively and
entertaining, which most medieval histories are not. Those readers who go away
thinking that the Middle Ages was stagnant and the popes were evil will at
least have learned a few things about Renaissance advances in science, while other
readers may be tempted, by this spicy taste of history, to look further and
deeper. Yes, Manchester is wrong about…so much; but he has so much fun with it
that I don’t begrudge him his pleasure, and I still recall how enjoyable I found
this book, lo so many years ago.
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