The Book of Memory
Page 74
Caedmon.’’
38. See Darbishire (ed.), The Early Lives of Milton; my thanks to James Thorpe of
the Huntington Library for bringing this material to my attention.
Notes to pp. 207–209
425
39. Regula monachorum, cap. 14 (PL 30. 365B): ‘‘Ad orationem nocte consurgenti
non indigestio cibi ructum faciat, sed inanitas. Nam quidam vir inter pastores
eximius: sicut fumus, inquit, fugat apes, sic indigesta ructatio avertit Spiritus
sancti charismata. Ructus autem dicitur proprie digestio cibi, et concoctarum
escarum in ventum efflatio. Quomodo ergo juxta qualitatem ciborum de
stomacho ructus erumpit, et vel boni, vel mali odoris flatus indicium est, ita
interioris hominis cogitationes verba proferunt, et ex abundantia cordis os
loquitur (Lk. 6:45). Justus comedens replet animam suam. Cumque sacris
doctrinis fuerit satiatus, de boni cordis thesauro profert ea quae bona sunt.’’
This passage was incorrectly cited by West, 220, note 11.
40. The argument that medieval scatalogical imagery was subversive of high-
culture piety, and/or expressed a carnivalesque ‘‘cultural unconscious,’’ was
made by Camille, Images in the Margins, and similarly understood as display-
ing late medieval class tensions by A. Taylor in his discussion of the
Smithfield Decretals (BL Royal 10.E.iv), Textual Situations, 137–196. Both
arguments are made in apparent unawareness of the monastic trope of reading
as eating, meditation as digestion and elimination (including vomiting and
shitting), and prayer as eructation – belching and farting. This trope is so
shocking now that many scholars read right over it.
41. PL 30. 435C: ‘‘ut dum corpus saginatur cibo, saturetur anima lectione.’’
42. Regula Benedicta, cap. 38 (PL 66. 601–602): ‘‘Mensis fratrum edentium lectio
deesse non debet.’’
43. There is debate over the date of the Regula magistri; the view of de Vogu
ë´, its
editor for the SC series, that it was contemporaneous with Benedict’s Rule has
been challenged by Dunn, Emergence of Monasticism, who argues for a date in
the seventh century (see esp. 182–187).
44. Regula magistri, cap. 24: ‘‘ut nunquam desit carnali refectioni et aeca [¼ esca]
divina, sicut dicit Scriptura, non in solo pane vivit homo sed in omni verbo
domini, ut dupliciter Fratres reficiant, cum ore manducant et auribus
saginantur.’’
45. PL 30. 435C–D: ‘‘Tunc uniuscujusque mens sobria intenta sit dulcedini verbi
Dei, suspiret anxia, cum propheticus aut historicus sermo Dei saevitiam
monstrat in pravos. Gaudio repleatur immenso, cum benignita Dei annun-
tiatur in bonos . . . Non resonent verba, sed gemitus: non risus et cachinnus,
sed lacrymae.’’
46. Epist. 52. 8: ‘‘Dicente te in ecclesia non clamor populi, sed gemitus suscitetur;
lacrimae auditorum laudes tuae sint.’’ See Riche´, Education and Culture,
82–83.
47. The two accounts differ in one important particular, which the commentators
noted. In Ezekiel, the prophet is presented with a roll and ‘ written therein
lamentations, and mourning, and woe’’; he is commanded ‘‘Son of man, cause
thy belly to eat, and fill thy bowels with this roll that I give thee. Then did I eat
it; and it was in my mouth as honey for sweetness.’ At that moment, he receives
his commission to prophecy. In Apocalypse, the angel tells the prophet that the
little book will be sweet in the mouth but bitter in his belly; ‘ And I took the
426
Notes to pp. 209–210
little book out of the angel’s hand and ate it up; and it was in my mouth sweet as
honey: and as soon as I had eaten it, my belly was bitter.’
48. De claustro anime, I V , 33 (PL 176. 1171D): ‘‘Librum ergo devoramus et
comedimus, dum verba Dei legimus. Multi enim legunt, et ab ipsa lectione
jejuni sunt . . . [alii] sanctum librum devorant, et comedunt, et jejuni non
sunt, quia praecepta vitae quae sensus capere potuit, memoria non amisit.’’
49. Comm. in Hiez., I . 3b. 851–856, on Ez. 3:3 (CCSL 75): ‘‘quando uero assidua
meditatione in memoriae thesauro librum Domini condiderimus, impletur
spiritualiter uenter noster et saturantur uiscera ut habeamus, cum apostolo
Paulo, uiscera misericordiae, et impleatur ille uenter, de quo Hieremias
loquitur: Ventrem meum, ventrem meum ego doleo: et sensus cordis mei con-
turbant me (Jer. 4:19).’’ Jerome’s commentary on Ezekiel, together with
Gregory the Great’s sermons on Ezekiel, were – along with the great patristic
commentaries on the Psalms – the best-known and most frequently adapted
commentaries among Old Testament Biblical texts. Hrabanus Maurus com-
mented on both Jerome and Gregory on Ezekiel: before him came Bede,
afterwards the Victorines, and many others. Even Abelard wrote an Ezekiel
commentary (a work that no longer exists). It is worth stressing this medieval
emphasis on Ezekiel, because it is not an obvious one, yet was profoundly
influential. On Ezekiel meditation more generally, see Lieb, Visionary Mode,
and Himmelfarb, ‘‘From Prophecy to Apocalypse.’’
50. ‘‘Ego autem, singula verba discutiens, audivi indignationem, audivi luctamen,
audivi tempestates sonoras, audivi murmur ac fremitum . . . Audivi rursum
regem in arce sedentem, audivi sceptrum tenentem, audivi prementem et
vinclis ac carcere frenantem’’; Petrarch, Prose, 124.
51. ‘‘Sive enim id Virgilius ipse sensit, dum scriberet, sive ab omni tali consid-
eratione remotissimus, maritimam his versibus et nil aliud describere voluit
tempestatem’’; Petrarch, Prose, 124.
52. R. W. Southern has written of John of Salisbury ‘‘patiently picking over the
literary deposit of the past. The names of Lucan, Macrobius, Martianus
Capella, Ovid, Cicero, follow each other in his pages with a fine impartiality,
each in turn pointing a doctrine or adorning a sentence. Once the nectar had
been extracted, John of Salisbury passed on like a bee to another flower,
diligently, unemotionally, not stopping to consider whether it was a cowslip
or a clover, so long as it gave up its treasure’’; Medieval Humanism, 126.
I would disagree with Southern’s adverb ‘‘unemotionally’’ (for a memory
cannot be stored without an emotion), but otherwise he precisely describes
the attitude of a medieval scholar towards his sources. As he also writes of
twelfth-century authors, they looked backward to the past ‘‘only for the quite
practical purpose of equipping themselves to look forward’ prudently. In this
passage from his Secretum, Petrarch, devoted textual scholar though he was,
shows himself, as an interpreter of texts, to share John of Salisbury’s attitude.
Here again one can distinctly see the difference between the activities of lectio,
or textual commentation and scholarship, and meditatio, the application of
reading to moral life.
Notes to pp. 210–212
427
53. Moralia in Job, I I , 1. 1–5: ‘‘Scriptura sacra mentis oculis quasi quoddam
speculum opponitur, ut interna nostra facies in ipsa uideatur. Ibi etenim
foeda ibi pulchra nostra cognoscimus. Ibi senti
mus quantum proficimus, ibi
a prouectu quam longe distamus.’’ He is quoting ad res Augustine, In Psalm.
103, ser. 1, n. 4. On the activities of lectio and meditatio in monastic textual
study, see Leclercq, esp. 15–17.
54. De claustro anime, I V , c. 33 (PL 176. 1172A): ‘‘Ventrem quippe doluit, qui
mentis afflictionem sensit. Sed sciendum est quia, cum sermo Dei in ore
cordis dulcis esse coeperit, hujus procul dubio contra semetipsum animus
amarescit.’’ From Gregory he quotes, ‘‘Librum devoramus cum verba vitae
cum aviditate sumimus’ (1171C). Hugh’s meditation recalls the first part of
one of Gregory’s sermons on Ezekiel (X, 1–13).
55. Since the will acts from desire, a total loss of desire would also mean a loss of
free will. This idea belongs in the category of essential Augustine, but it is best
defined in De trinitate. The fullest literary expression of it is the whole Divine
Comedy, but perhaps one moment especially captures it. At the end of
Purgatorio, Dante finds himself able to do whatever he desires because his
will is completely good; however, he has not, one should notice, been purged of
desire. ‘‘Take henceforth thy pleasure for guide,’’ Virgil tells him; ‘‘Free,
upright and whole is thy will and it were a fault not to act on its bidding’’
(Purgatorio, 27. 131, 140–141).
56. For the texts from John of Salisbury, Isidore, and others, see above, 29–32,
139–140; Balogh, ‘ Voces paginarum,’’ lists several variants of this phrase, includ-
ing ‘ sonus litterarum’ (Ambrose), ‘ vox antiqua chartarum’ (Cassiodorus);
Paulus Diaconus wrote that ‘‘pagina canit’ (‘‘the page sings’’ or ‘‘chants’’),
perhaps an allusion to the murmur of memorative meditation.
57. See
esp. the remarks of Hendrickson, ‘‘Ancient Reading’’; Gavrilov,
‘‘Techniques of Reading’’; McCartney, ‘‘Notes on Reading and Praying
Audibly’’; and Saenger, ‘‘Silent Reading.’’
58. Leclercq, 19; the phrase is from the Rule, c. 48. Benedict orders that the monks
should pause in complete silence after the daily meal, although those who
strongly desire to read may read to themselves in a way that does not disturb
others: ‘‘sibi sic legat, ut alium non inquietet.’’ See the comments of Richeón
evidence for the use of the voice in monastic reading, Education and Culture,
465–466.
59. See Leclercq, Love of Learning, esp. chapter 2. Paul Gehl, ‘ Competens silen-
tium’ provides an excellent discussion of monastic silence, and a useful
bibliography. See also his essay ‘‘Mystical Language Models.’
60. Saenger ‘‘Silent Reading’’, 396–398. The degrees of what passes for quiet are
apparent in any library; see the judicious remarks of Hendrickson, ‘‘Ancient
Reading,’’ 194–195.
61. See Hugh of St. Victor, De archa Noe, I V , iv. 36, where the Bridegroom in the
Canticles is said to call his Spouse ‘‘sono depresso uoce tenui,’’ that is, in a
whisper. This is the traditional voice of meditation, as befits this text’s having
become the great meditational text of monasticism. Interestingly, the Bible
428
Notes to pp. 212–214
itself does not so characterize the Bridegroom’s voice. Perhaps the association
was aided by the reference to God’s voice calling the prophet Elijah, not in an
earthquake or fire, but through a whispering, weak, breath of wind (I Kings
19:12).
62. Translated by Maria Boulding from the CCSL edition of Verheijen. See in
addition the comments of O’Donnell on this passage.
63. Boulding interprets the phrase et aliter nunquam as an independent clause,
and starts a new sentence after tacite, thus: ‘‘It was never otherwise,’’ it referring
to the general reading situation. Other translators have understood the phrase
in parallel with tacite, as modifying legentem.
64. The quoted words are from Hendrickson. Using this passage from the
Confessions as the best evidence that the ancients normally read out loud
(and silently only rarely if at all) goes back to Nietzsche (1885), as Balogh
makes clear (85). Valuable evidence for the commonness of silent reading in
antiquity was given by Knox, ‘‘Silent Reading in Antiquity’’ (1968), but the
idea persisted that reading silently was highly unusual. Since I first wrote
about this passage, the scholarly climate has shifted towards the interpretation
I advance here. An important article by Gavrilov, ‘‘Techniques of Reading in
Classical Antiquity,’’ originally published in Russian in 1989 and then in
English in 1997, marshals the considerable evidence that the ancients read
silently as a matter of course when studying or meditating. Gavrilov’s reading
of this passage in Augustine supports mine with more evidence. We differ in
that he sees Augustine’s silence as the deference of a pupil to a master, and
I understand it as recognizing and respecting a social convention. As Gavrilov
concludes, reading silently and reading aloud were, in antiquity as now,
interdependent modes that educated readers engaged in for the differing
tasks to which each was better suited. Boulding’s note on this passage accepts
this interpretation, and her translation supports it.
65. The same contrast is made by Hugh of St. Victor (who knew Augustine
very well, as many scholars have noted) in his characterization of meditatio:
‘ Ea enim maxime est, quae animam a terrenorum actuum strepitu segre-
gat, et in hac vita etiam aeternae quietis dulcedinum quodammodo prae-
gustare facit’’ (Didasc., III. 10; Buttimer, 59, lines 23–25). Notice also the
metaphor of eating, praegustare, which is so commonly associated with
meditation.
66. Conf., IX. ix: ‘‘we arrived at the summit of our own minds; and this too we
transcended, to touch that land of never-failing plenty where you pasture
Israel for ever with the food of truth.’’ Again, notice how strong the image of
feeding ruminants is; of course Augustine is echoing the Bible here, but the
physical activity of working the jaws that habitually accompanied ordinary
meditatio pulls the literal conversation of mother and son together with the
character of their discourse (as ruminative, recollective study) and with the
Biblical grazing-motif.
67. See Chapter 2; here again I think it is interesting that Augustine thinks of
memory (mens and cor) in terms of a physiological activity, even when it is the
Notes to pp. 215–217
429
path to true mystical rapture; it is through the affectus, that is, by way of
sensory memory, that one ascends.
68. Isidore of Seville, Sententiae, I I I . 14. 9, a chapter entitled ‘‘De conlatione’’:
‘‘Acceptabilior est sensibus lectio tacita quam aperta; amplius enim intellectus
instruitur quando uox legentis quiescit et sub silentio lingua mouetur. Nam
clare legendo et corpus lassatur et uocis acumen obtunditur.’’ Silentium has
connotations of reverence as well as concentration; it is the state that prevailed
when the auspices were being read (Ox. Lat. Dict., s.v. silentium). As Isidore
uses it
here, with sub, it seems to be an independent state of being rather than
describing a person’s behavior.
69. Ox. Lat. Dict., s.v. rimo, rimor; citations from Virgil (Aen., V I , 599) and
Juvenal (6, 551). Quintilian uses the word to mean ‘‘study thoroughly’’ in Inst.
orat., III. iv. 6, cuncta rimanti; we might translate this phrase into English as
‘‘thoroughly dissecting the matter.’’ Interestingly here, Augustine uses the
verb rimor to describe Ambrose’s rumination of sacred text and the noun
silentium (also used in connection with augury) to describe his own reverent
and attentive notice of him. Saenger goes wide of the mark when he claims
that the re-introduction of word divisions in early medieval scripts was
motivated by a desire to read quickly; see ‘‘Silent Reading’’ and Space
Between Words, esp. chapter 1.
70. Martianus Capella, De nuptiis, V . 539, lines 19–23 (ed. Dick, 269): ‘‘nec uoce
magna legenda sunt, sed murmure potius meditanda; et nocte magis quam
interdiu maturius excitari memoriam manifestum est, cum et late silentium
iuuat, nec foras a sensibus auocatur intentio.’’
71. Cf. Fortunatianus on the same matter. That the activities requiring medita-
tion were done best at night is apparent in the Latin word for them, lucubratio,
‘‘night-work’’; Ox. Lat. Dict., s.v.
72. Quintilian counsels at some length the need to practice achieving silentium in
crowds, and cites the story of Demosthenes studying by the seashore in the
roar of the breakers, to train himself not to be disturbed by crowd-noises
(‘‘meditans consuescebat contionum fremitus non expavescere,’’ ‘‘[studying]
to accustom himself not to be frightened by the roar of the Assembly’’);
Inst. orat., X. iii. 30.
73. This change is discussed by Yates, Art of Memory, 75–76, who finds it a curious
medieval ‘‘misreading’ of a classical concept; she is partly right, in that it is a
particularly medieval change, though it is an obvious development in
Christian hands of features already implicit in ancient teaching on memory.
The Ad Herennium text is from Book III.19.31; Thomas Aquinas quoted is
from ST II- II, Q. 49.
74. ‘‘Legebat quandoque in sacris libris, et quod animo semel iniecerat, indelebi-
liter scribebat in corde. Memoriam pro libris habebat, quia non frustra semel