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Arnaud de Brescia dans les sources du XIIe siecle
Le public français, en ouvrant ce livre, va rencontrer deux Italiens remarquables: un auteur et son personnage, le médiéviste Arsenio Frugoni (1914-1970) et le réformateur du XIIe siècle, Arnaud de Brescia.
Pour un dictionnaire fameux, Arnaud « soulève en 1140 les Romains, chasse le pape Eugène III et entreprend de restaurer la République romaine. Il garda le pouvoir pendant dix ans, puis fut vaincu par Frédéric Barberousse et brûlé sur son ordre ».
Hélas, presque tout est faux dans cette légende colportée depuis des siècles, et Arsenio Frugoni met en pièce ce mythe en montrant qu'Arnaud fut fondamentalement un réformateur religieux austère et passionné, qui rencontra la révolution romaine plus qu'il ne l’inspira.
Mais la manière importe autant que la conclusion. Car, avec une érudition forte et souvent malicieuse, Frugoni suit une méthode étonnante. Les sources étant pauvres et lacunaires, au lieu de les combiner pour atteindre du vraisemblable, Frugoni creuse les différences en traitant les sources séparément, comme autant de versions biaisées, partielles et partiales. Ce Rashomon historique ne nous fait pas seulement découvrir la vraie figure d’Arnaud, il nous apprend aussi comment on écrit l’histoire, au Moyen Age et de nos jours. Aucun relativisme dans cette leçon: le vrai s’entrevoit si l’on dissipe les brumes du vraisemblable.
Intoduction et traduction d'Alain Boureau, avec une note de mise à jour d'Ovidio Capitani.
Pour un dictionnaire fameux, Arnaud « soulève en 1140 les Romains, chasse le pape Eugène III et entreprend de restaurer la République romaine. Il garda le pouvoir pendant dix ans, puis fut vaincu par Frédéric Barberousse et brûlé sur son ordre ».
Hélas, presque tout est faux dans cette légende colportée depuis des siècles, et Arsenio Frugoni met en pièce ce mythe en montrant qu'Arnaud fut fondamentalement un réformateur religieux austère et passionné, qui rencontra la révolution romaine plus qu'il ne l’inspira.
Mais la manière importe autant que la conclusion. Car, avec une érudition forte et souvent malicieuse, Frugoni suit une méthode étonnante. Les sources étant pauvres et lacunaires, au lieu de les combiner pour atteindre du vraisemblable, Frugoni creuse les différences en traitant les sources séparément, comme autant de versions biaisées, partielles et partiales. Ce Rashomon historique ne nous fait pas seulement découvrir la vraie figure d’Arnaud, il nous apprend aussi comment on écrit l’histoire, au Moyen Age et de nos jours. Aucun relativisme dans cette leçon: le vrai s’entrevoit si l’on dissipe les brumes du vraisemblable.
Intoduction et traduction d'Alain Boureau, avec une note de mise à jour d'Ovidio Capitani.
246 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1993
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January 12, 2015
This is a very helpful book for doing research, though I'd imagine that it can be a bit of a tedious read for someone looking for a good overview of Arnold of Brescia & his importance to the 12th century. This is not what this book is trying to do, at all, so I do feel a bit bad for giving it only three stars here - as a work of scholarship it deserves four or five. But I don't think many people join Goodreads for their historical scholarship needs, so I'm going to give this one a grade based on how it would read to someone approaching the book for reasons other than research.
Arnold of Brescia is a fascinating person, an enigma about whom we know almost nothing. Despite / Because of this, he is often put up on a pedestal in order to represent the twelfth century as a whole. His story touches on the slow emergence of medieval heresy (and the changing clerical response), on the sudden rise of communes across the Italian peninsula, on the role that classical antiquity played in the mind of medieval people, and on the terribly tenuous balance of power existing between the Pope, the Emperor, and the citizens of Rome, all eager to grasp its share of the city's authority and venerability. Despite all these weighty topics, what we actually know about Arnold is minuscule. He was condemned by Innocent II in 1139 for inciting violence in his home town of Brescia, and trying to remove the presiding bishop from office. He studied in Paris for a time, probably under Peter Abelard. He was chased out of France by the sway of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, and resided for a time in Switzerland. In 1145 or so he return to Rome, having reconciled with the papacy. Soon after arriving he began preaching against the pomp of the clergy, and became ambiguously enmeshed in the politics of the reinstated Roman Senate. In 1155 he was exiled from the city, captured by Frederic Barbarossa, and hanged by the prefect of Rome. His body was burned and the ashes were tossed into the Tiber, so that the people of the city would not venerate him as a saint.
There are huge and looming silences in this story, and it's terribly difficult to piece together exactly who Arnold was and how he interacted with the people around him. And as is often true in these sort of cases, what people said about Arnold often said more about the author than Arnold himself. Embracing this problem, Arsenio Frugoni makes his way through all of the contemporary accounts of Arnold and compares what is said about him, trying to create as comprehensive a portrait as possible while also illuminating the various intellectual tensions of the age. There is a lot of quibbling over details here, which could be off-putting to many readers. But from a broader perspective it's a fascinating look at how the absence of information about a figure - especially a figure who was executed in so dramatic a fashion - results in such varying projections and interpretations of his life. It's not surprising that Arnold has become a poster child for all sorts of ideas and causes - the most famous prophets are the most ambiguous, and the most remembered martyrs are those who died for an interpretable cause.
Arnold of Brescia is a fascinating person, an enigma about whom we know almost nothing. Despite / Because of this, he is often put up on a pedestal in order to represent the twelfth century as a whole. His story touches on the slow emergence of medieval heresy (and the changing clerical response), on the sudden rise of communes across the Italian peninsula, on the role that classical antiquity played in the mind of medieval people, and on the terribly tenuous balance of power existing between the Pope, the Emperor, and the citizens of Rome, all eager to grasp its share of the city's authority and venerability. Despite all these weighty topics, what we actually know about Arnold is minuscule. He was condemned by Innocent II in 1139 for inciting violence in his home town of Brescia, and trying to remove the presiding bishop from office. He studied in Paris for a time, probably under Peter Abelard. He was chased out of France by the sway of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, and resided for a time in Switzerland. In 1145 or so he return to Rome, having reconciled with the papacy. Soon after arriving he began preaching against the pomp of the clergy, and became ambiguously enmeshed in the politics of the reinstated Roman Senate. In 1155 he was exiled from the city, captured by Frederic Barbarossa, and hanged by the prefect of Rome. His body was burned and the ashes were tossed into the Tiber, so that the people of the city would not venerate him as a saint.
There are huge and looming silences in this story, and it's terribly difficult to piece together exactly who Arnold was and how he interacted with the people around him. And as is often true in these sort of cases, what people said about Arnold often said more about the author than Arnold himself. Embracing this problem, Arsenio Frugoni makes his way through all of the contemporary accounts of Arnold and compares what is said about him, trying to create as comprehensive a portrait as possible while also illuminating the various intellectual tensions of the age. There is a lot of quibbling over details here, which could be off-putting to many readers. But from a broader perspective it's a fascinating look at how the absence of information about a figure - especially a figure who was executed in so dramatic a fashion - results in such varying projections and interpretations of his life. It's not surprising that Arnold has become a poster child for all sorts of ideas and causes - the most famous prophets are the most ambiguous, and the most remembered martyrs are those who died for an interpretable cause.
Displaying 1 of 1 review