Desert Harvest 13.1

• The view through the round window, Professor Susan C. Karant-Nunn
• Annual Lecture 2005: Caroline Walker Bynum, Mary Kovel
• At the feet of visiting scholars
     Professor Caroline Walker Bynum, Sean Clark
     Professor Erika Rummel, Professor Susan C. Karant-Nunn
     Professor James M. Estes, Samantha Kuhn
     Professor Corine Schleif, Tom Donlan
• Valencia, Spain: Archives and oranges, CynthiaAnn Gonzales

The view through the round window
by Professor Susan C. Karant-Nunn, Director

An e-mail message recently informed me, "We are pleased to announce you as one of the three lucky winners in the Royal Games Lottery draw held on the 5th of March . . . . You have therefore been approved for a total pay out of two million pounds." Most of these announcements are indeed too good to be true! However, in November we learned—and notified you—that an anonymous benefactor had extended to us a matching grant of $300,000. This is a bona fide windfall! We feel at once delighted and humble. What a generous help toward the achievement of the goal toward which many of you and we have labored during the last four years: the acquisition of Heiko Oberman's magnificent personal research collection for The University of Arizona and the people of the State of Arizona. How can we acquire it? If each of you to whom we mail the Desert Harvest sends at least $200 to the Oberman Library/Chair Endowment before December 31, 2006, we will have the fabulous proffered $300,000 matching gift in hand. Now is the chance for all of you to assure that the sum total of this offer is secured for this cause, in which we—and I count you here, too—most heartily believe!
As this letter goes to press, I have just spoken to potential donors to the College of Education about the historic figure of Erasmus of Rotterdam (ca. 1469-1536), a famed advocate of education during the sixteenth century. Erasmus is one of the Division's central models, too. I have had his portrait above my desk for the past 30 years. One of the most sought-after authors and personalities of the Northern Renaissance, recipients of his thousands of letters treasured them and saved them. Northern Europe's leading artists drew, engraved, and painted his image. His writings by the dozens are found in every research library in North America and Europe, and well beyond.
Erasmus believed in the reformation of human society through education. Young people needed to be exposed to the "best books," often by classical and ecclesiastical authors. They would thereby be brought to lead upright and enlightened lives, helping society as a collectivity toward the pursuit of lofty ideals. He was initially optimistic but was gradually disillusioned as disagreement over religion (the Reformation) and continued warfare (such as the decades-long Hapsburg-Valois wars over Italy) dispelled his hopes.
His reputation endures both as an advocate of highly principled, pious living and as a consummate scholar. One among his many books, The Praise of Folly, has allegedly not been out of print since it first appeared in 1509.
Erasmus could not have survived without the generous gifts of patrons. His correspondence is filled with witty requests for money to enable him to keep turning out his scholarship. He wrote to the noblewoman Anne of Borsselen in 1500, "The small amount of money required for my leisure can easily be supplied from your wealth, which is as generous as is your heart . . . . You are only too glad to support my scholarly work, which depends completely upon you and looks to you alone for aid and is dedicated to you alone." He told her that his works were her "foster-child."
The Division is in excellent company as we come to you for assistance in ensuring that not one dollar of the $300,000 offered fails to find its match. In joining hands in this worthy task, we make light work of it indeed.

Annual Lecture 2005
Professor Caroline Walker Bynum: "A Matter of Matter: Two Cases of Blood Cult in Fifteenth-Century Germany"
by Mary Kovel, doctoral student

This year's annual Town and Gown Lecture welcomed Caroline Walker Bynum, a well-respected medievalist whose research has focused on female piety, cultural history and the history of ideas. During her lecture, Professor Bynum shared her current research on blood cults in northern Germany. Cities with blood cults were very popular pilgrimage sites during the fifteenth century. Professor Bynum presented two case studies, one in Wilsnack and the other in Sternberg. Through the study of these blood cults, she avers that physical matter was a vital component of medieval piety and that religious study was not concerned only with soteriology but human nature and physiology: "What really matters is matter."
The Wilsnack blood cult originated from a random act of violence that occurred when a pillaging knight destroyed a church in 1388. In contrast, the Sternberg cult arose from the anti-Jewish fantasy of host desecration in 1493, which resulted in the execution of twenty-seven Jews and the explusion of the rest of the Jewish community. The common factor of both blood cults was the attempt to violate the body of Christ through the destruction of the Eucharistic wafer. Rather than be destroyed, drops of a red substance appeared on the wafers, which the populace believed was the natural blood of Christ. Local cults developed around the miraculous wafers as people attributed numerous healings and miracles to them. Special altars were built around the wafers, and the cities became great pilgrimage sites. Nevertheless, depsite the cults' popularity in the fifteenth century, they essentially disappeared by the mid-sixteenth century as the German Reformation swept across Europe.
Central to both cults was the emphasis on blood. The laity viewed the blood on the wafer as more powerful than the blood in the Eucharistic cup. The miracle host contained the natural blood and not the transubstantiated blood of Christ. Theological debates regarding the miracle hosts were important since material objects were at the very center of medieval piety as they allowed personal contact with God. The Eucharist was a sort of "super relic" because Christ was actually present in it. The bread and wine consecrated were not just a relic, but were "holy matter in their unseen ability." Thus, there was "divine power present in matter." In essence, physical matter linked the heavenly and terrestrial worlds.
Theological debates focused on the issue of whether or not Christ's blood could actually be present in the miracle wafers. Today there exist over 150 different religious treatises concerning this issue. On one side of the debate, theologians such as Jan Hus wrote that at his resurrection Christ assemble all of his body parts, including his blood. Thus the substance that appeared on the wafer could not be real. Other theologians believed that Christ could have left blood behind because glorified bodies did not need as much blood as earthly bodies. The papacy endorsed the blood cults of Wilsnack and Sternberg, and skirted the ontological nature of Christ's presence in blood relics by refusing to say where the blood came from.
At the end of the evening, a gentleman asked what the contemporary implications of the Sternberg host desecration were in light of the Holocaust and anti-Semitism. Professor Bynum noted that the Sternberg parish church still contains a large table and a relief depicting the Jewish host desecration. There are open discussions of what to do with the relics: should they be moved to a museum or archive where only a few scholars can study them? Or should they remain in the church where the community can see and understand the history (both good and bad) that occurred in Sternberg? For me, personally, this question, and Professor Bynum's attempt to answer it, was the highlight of the Town and Gown Lecture because it showed that academia and the community share the same desire to reconcile the present with our past.

At the feet of visiting scholars
Professor Caroline Walker Bynum, Institute of Advanced Studies, Princeton
by Sean Clark, master's student photo

It seems safe to say that most fields of human endeavor have their superstars. Basketball has Michael Jordan. Physics has Stephen Hawking. Architecture has Frank Gehry. One of the great things about being a part of the Division is that we regularly get to spend time with some of the most prominent scholars in our field. Recently we had the distinct honor of welcoming to our seminar one of the heaviest of academic heavy-hitters, Caroline Walker Bynum.
The night after a truly exhilarating Town and Gown Lecture, Professor Bynum joined our graduate seminar on campus. In the tradition of our Founding Director, Professor Heiko A. Oberman, we ask our guests what makes them tick as scholars. These autobiographical talks never fail to enlighten as well as entertain and they are personally one of my favorite activities with our guests, and certainly Professor Bynum was no exception.
In her introductory remarks, Professor Bynum shared her thoughts concerning the main influences on her life and work. Her choice of career was of course influenced by many factors, but primary among them was her family. Her choice of an academic career was perhaps a natural one considering that both her parents had earned Ph.D.'s from Harvard. Her mother, who had studied philosophy under Alfred North Whitehead, gave up her intellectual pursuits for the life of wife and mother, a difficult choice that may have motivated her daughter's own academic ambitions. Regular church attendance was a requirement in her childhood home, which inspired an intense and abiding curiosity about religion and its role in history.
Questions from students centered on the topic for this semester's seminar, religious art in late medieval and early modern Europe. While not specifically trained as an art historian, Professor Bynum has used religious art to great effect in her scholarship. Her comments on the analytical uses of art in the study of history were particularly helpful to those of us struggling to learn to incorporate religious art in our own work.
Professor Bynum labels herself an "historian of the religion and culture of Western Europe in the period between the principate of Augustus and the Council of Trent." To say that this is a vast field of inquiry would be a gross understatement. Incredibly, in the course of a thirty-five year academic career she has produced an ever-growing body of groundbreaking work that has influenced scholarly thought in virtually every area of early modern studies. As an aspiring scholar with a family, I find it particularly heartening that she did it all as a parent. (She graciously admits to receiving a lot of help from many people over the years.) I know I speak for the other Division and seminar students when I extend a heartfelt thanks to Professor Bynum for her time and encouragement.

At the feet of visiting scholars
Professor Erika Rummel, University of Toronto
by Professor Susan C. Karant-Nunn, Director, Professor of History

Professor Erika Rummel of the University of Toronto recalled that one of her professors at the University of Vienna after World War II was angry at his students for the "improper" preparation of toilet paper cut from newspaper. Residents of much of Europe made personal use of newspaper of during the years of war- and post-war deprivation.
Meeting with Division students in January, Rummel was addressing the classic question put to his august guests by the late Founding Director, Heiko A. Oberman: What makes you tick as an historian? I have retained this query because I share Oberman's view that in answering it, even world-famous scholars reveal their human side to students and show that they, too, had to exert themselves to overcome all manner of personal and circumstantial impediments to scholarly accomplishment.
Rummel, author and translator since 1985 of at least nine books on late medieval scholasticism and Renaissance humanism, urged her avid listeners to surmount every obstacle in their quest for knowledge. Both parents and instructors regarded her as odd for her attraction to learning. Her professors declared their disapproval to her, and her father concluded that she would be unmarriageable. She had, she said, to "demonstrate a natural force in Vienna by the age of ten" in order to be allowed to continue. She had to find role models toward whom to strive, and these were initially her high school teachers, all women. There were no women at the university level. In addition, Austrian society had to come to terms with its collaboration with Hitler and its anti-Semitism. This added to a lingering tension in the atmosphere.
Scholars can better understand the subjects of their research—Erasmus, for example—as a result of their personal struggles. Rummel majored in Latin and then German, finally gaining teaching certification. To support herself, she soldered washing machine parts. She migrated to Canada in 1965 and worked at an insurance company until her "English was good enough." Canada did not recognize her Austrian certification, so she earned a new degree in mathematics and taught. After entering graduate school and because of her superior linguistic skills, she found employment on the great, still ongoing Erasmus project at the University of Toronto. Eventually, she became a professor at Wilfrid Laurier University in Waterloo, from which she has recently retired, only to return to the Erasmus project. She has also begun to compile and edit the works of Wolfgang Capito, the Strasbourg reformer.
Rummel declared that challenge and curiosity made her tick. She was determined to probe the established theories about the relationship between scholasticism and humanism and found that they had been shaped by prevailing biases. To this day, too many investigators don't even bother to reread the primary sources for themselves but take their evidence from the conclusions of others. She is looking, she concluded, "for a beautiful logic to tie everything together."

At the feet of visiting scholars
Professor James M. Estes, University of Toronto
by Samantha Kuhn, doctoral student

In late March, the Division students met for a special seminar led by Professor James M. Estes, professor emeritus at the University of Toronto's Centre for Renaissance and Reformation Studies. Professor Estes was a long-time friend of our late Founding Director, Professor Heiko A. Oberman, and or our current Director, Professor Susan C. Karant-Nunn. A specialist in the intellectual and political history of the German Reformation, his work focuses particularly on the works of the early reformers, such as Martin Luther, Philip Melanchthon, and Johannes Brenz, as well as the northern humanist Erasmus, and their views on civil magistracy and the relations between church and state.
As is typical for the Division seminar, the evening began with an account by Professor Estes of his experiences as an historian. He began with his personal view of the discipline: "History is a house with many rooms. I have tried to visit all the rooms, but I always come back to the older rooms, the intellectual and political rooms. What I do is plain history." Far from doing "plain" history, Estes concentrates not simply on the written works of the reformers. He seeks to show the importance of the day-to-day events that surrounded and influenced them. By placing the intellectual works within their political contexts, one is better able to ascertain changes in thought, the influence of other scholars, as well as more subtle political agendas.
A particular theme that ran throughout his talk was the necessity to recognize scholarship as a communal enterprise, both back in the early modern period, and today among modern historians. Just as Melanchthon's theories on the relations between church and state influenced his colleague, Martin Luther, so should the thought of our colleagues bear on us, the new generation of scholars.
Estes impressed upon us that we should do what we love. A self-proclaimed "epicurean," he explained that he has spent his career in the high-minded pursuit of what is pleasant. His sage advice was that passion will take one much farther than a continual need to be on the cutting edge.

At the feet of visiting scholars
Professor Corine Schleif, Arizona State University
by Tom Donlan, doctoral student

Since the beginning of the spring semester, Division students, along with a handful of Art History and Literature students, have been exploring issues of art and religion in the Renaissance and early modern Europe, in the Division seminar led by Professor Pia Cuneo. Thus, it was with great enthusiasm and interest that we welcomed Professor Corine Schleif, a specialist in medieval and Renaissance art at Arizona State University.
Professor Schleif opened with a brief biographical sketch of her career. Since her undergraduate days she has been intrigued with how people of the Middle Ages made, viewed, and used art. Furthermore, she has been fascinated with how individuals of the medieval era went about putting themselves in works of art and what their motives might have been for doing so. In several of her published articles, she explores how medieval artists, such as Tilman Riemanschneider, cleverly sculpted themselves into their works, and donors, such as Charles IV, arranged for representations of themselves to be carefully crafted into the works they commissioned. Our conversation with Professor Schleif was a lively one that spanned an array of topics including St. Hedwig, the Holy Lance, the role of wives in artisans' workshops, and modern comic books.
Schleif, who earned her Ph.D. from the University of Bamberg, also shared her current research interests, which includes among other things the study of Katerina Lemmel, a Birgittine nun, and the clever ways in which she went about persuading friends and relatives to donate stained-glass windows to her monastery.
Furthermore, Schleif discussed the importance of interdisciplinary collaboration and collegiality in the study of history and praised the Division as a place where these practices were well established. It was a pleasure to read this esteemed scholar's works and to discuss them with her personally. There was a consensus among the students that Professor Schleif is particularly gifted in relating historical art issues of the past to events and people of today and that a return visit would be most welcome.

Valencia, Spain: Archives and oranges
by CynthiaAnn Gonzales, doctoral student, History Department, Fulbright Fellow

For most people, the mention of Spain conjures up enticing images of inspiring Catholic cathedrals, afternoon siestas coupled with endless pitchers of sangria, flamenco music and dancing, and weeklong fiestas commemorated by traditional bullfights. And, yes, Spain is all these things that lure tourists to the Iberian Peninsula. However, living in this country for an extended period of time has led me to develop a more intimate relationship. Admittedly, my initial encounter with Spanish culture was as a tourist and then as an American student captivated by its fascinating history. But I have since found Spain, and particularly the city of Valencia, to be the kind of place that subtly reveals its hidden charms.
My main objective in Spain has been to conduct the necessary research for my doctoral dissertation entitled "Spanish Port Cities: Women in the City of Valencia, 1550-1600," which examines the economic opportunities of working and middle-class women in the Spanish-Mediterranean port city of Valencia. Thus far, my work has primarily consisted of archival research conducted at the Archivo del Reino de Valencia (ARV), which is located at El Monasterio de San Miguel de Los Reyes in Valencia. In search of the activities and "voices" of Valencian women, I have concentrated my research on the archive's vast collection of notarial documents consisting of wills, marriage contracts, inheritance records, and inventories. Additionally, I have scoured the archive's legal records detailing civil and criminal cases involving women for various reasons ranging from contestation over debt, the administration of goods, incomplete marriage promise, personal violation, aggression, and murder. With these particular records, I have been able to assess the fascinating nature of women's activities within the city from 1550-1600, during which Valencia thrived as an international trading center. Beyond the specifics of my research, I have found my work environment to be somewhat different from what I originally imagined. Unlike some of Spain's other major archives, such as the Biblioteca Nacional in Madrid, the ARV is a relatively under-used archive, especially by international scholars. The majority of the researchers are local professors and university students. In fact, I have yet to meet anyone at the ARV who is not a Spaniard. Additionally, there have been times when I have found myself alone in the reading room wondering if perhaps there was a local holiday that I was not aware of until someone else fially came along easing my bewilderment. Granted, archival research is by nature a somewhat isolating endeavor, but I never expected to be among so few researchers especially since the archive is quite openly accessible. Over time, however, I have become used to the occasional curious stares and focus on my exploration of a rich archive and an under-utilized collection of records.
My research, however, is only one element of my experience in Spain. In fact, it would be impossible to spend all of my time inthe archive as it closes at 2 p.m. and on the numerous holidays and local fiestas. In this after-hours time, I have come to know the real Valencia. While walking around the city, I have observed families out for their evening strolls, smelled the aroma of paella being cooked in the street during a neighborhood gathering, applauded a round of fireworks lit in honor of a passing wedding procession, and stopped to sip freshly squeezed orange juice in an outdoor café. All of these things formulate a local culture that is proudly supported by the Valencian community.
I have also found the cultural pride exhibited through language. Valenciano, the local language, is a dialect of Catalan according to strictly linguistic criteria. Many natives, however, feel that Valenciano is a language in its own right with its own norms, rules, and literature. Although the younger generation is not entirely fluent in Valenciano, the state is officially bilingual. I encounter the language on a daily basis in many forms from random conversations to street signs, the local news, and even in the archive, where I have found numerous records written in Valenciano. Although it poses an additional challenge to living in Valencia, it is a wonderful opportunity to observe the role that language plays in the formation of local identity. Furthermore, I fully appreciate the state's successful efforts to equally support both Castellano and Valenciano in the region.
As a scholar, I am accustomed to relating to Spain from the point of view of an historian, and because of this, I did not have a solid connection with or understanding of modern Spanish society. In formulating a more intimate relationship with Spain, I have found the tranquility of this Spanish-Mediterranean city to be both personally and professionally inspiring.

☼ back to top