Montaillou: The Promised Land of Error

by Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Barbara Bray (translator)

In the early 1300's the village of Montaillou & the surrounding mountainous region of Southern France was full of heretics. When Jacquest Fournier, Bishop of Pamiers, launched an elaborate Inquisition to stamp them out, the peasants & shepherds he interrogated revealed, along with their position on official Catholicism, many details of their everyday life. Basing his absorbing study on these vivid, carefully recorded statements of peasants who lived more than 600 years ago--Pierre Clergue, the powerful village priest & shameless womanizer is even heard explaining his techniques of seduction--eminent historian Le Roy Ladurie reconstructs the economy & social structure of the community & probes the most intimate aspects of medieval life: love & marriage, gestures & emotions, conversations & gossip, clans & factions, crime & violence, concepts of time & space, attitudes to the past, animals, magic & folklore, death & beliefs about the other world.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, France, Medieval, Religion, Medieval History, European History

383 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1975

About the author

Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie was a French historian whose work is mainly focused upon Languedoc in the ancient regime, particularly the history of the peasantry.

Emmanuel Ladurie was professor at the Collège de France and, since 1973, chair, department of history of modern civilization. He has had a distinguished career, serving as Administrateur Général of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France (1987-94); member of the Institute (Academy of Moral and Political Sciences); Agrégé of the University, Doctor of Letters; Commander of the Legion of Honor (1996); and has taught at the universities of Montpellier, the Sorbonne, and Paris VII. Dr. Ladurie is the author of many historical works, including Les Paysans de Languedoc (1966), Histoire du Climat depuis l'An Mil (second ed., 1983), Montaillou, village occitan (1975), Le Territoire, de l'Historien (2 vols., 1973, 1978), Le Carnaval de Romans, 1579-1580 (1980), L'Etat royal (1987), L'Ancien Regime (1991), Le Siècle de Platter (1995), and Saint-Simon, le systeme de la Cour (1997).

Reviews

[Lynne King · Rating 5 out of 5]

Between 1318 and 1325 Jacques Fournier, Bishop of Pamiers, later Pope Benedict XII at Avignon, carried out an inquisition in a village in the Pyrenees, in what was then the independent Comté de Foix. Montaillou was a small community of some 250 souls, farmers and shepherds, of no particular interest except that it became the subject of this extraordinarily detailed and exhaustive inquisition. As a result of Fournier’s tireless interrogation we know more about Montaillou than we know about any other mediaeval village in the world.

I purchased this book on a whim about twenty years ago. The sad looking ruin on a rather desolate hillside appealed to me for some obscure reason as did the subject of the Cathars and catholics during the mediaeval period. Unfortunately it has lain lost and forlorn on one of my upper bookshelves where only dust has kept it company all these years. Yes, the reason I discovered it was that I was dusting that section of the top shelf, just below the ceiling.

This isn’t purely an historical and social document, it is a reference book that deals with all the minutiae of village life of the life of shepherds, who made up the majority of people who lived there, how they thought, body language and sex, death, the condition of women, marriage, childhood, cultural exchanges, libido of the clergy, and everything that made up the cultural fabric of daily life. It’s also a fascinating chronicle of that time but there are sections that really fascinated me as did the following regarding hygiene:

In Montaillou, people did not shave, or even wash, often. They did not go bathing or swimming. On the other hand, there was a great deal of delousing, which was an ingredient of friendship, whether heretical or purely social. Pierre Clergue had himself deloused by his mistresses, including Béatrice de Planissoles and Raymonde Guilhou; the operation might take place in bed, or by the fire, at the window or on a shoemaker’s bench, the priest taking the opportunity to air his ideas about both Catharism and love. Raymonde Guilhou also deloused the priest’s mother, wife of old Pons Clergue, in full view of everybody in the doorway of the “ostal” (house in Occitan - I came across a Mediaeval dictionary of Occitan which covered 10,200 words. Remarkable really.), relating the latest gossip as she did so. The Clergues, as leading citizens, had no difficulty in finding women to relieve them of their insect life.

As we are dealing with heresy here, there is an excellent glossary at the end which shows which of the main families were, or were not, heretical households.

On reflection, yes, this book on the one hand is somewhat dry in parts but then on the other, this is one of those books that can be opened at any chapter and will continually interest the reader. I’m very proud indeed to be the owner of this gem of a book.

[Warwick · Rating 3 out of 5]

•Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Montaillou: Cathars and Catholics in a French village 1294–1324, 1975 (tr. Barbara Bray)
•Stephen O'Shea, The Perfect Heresy: The Life and Death of the Cathars, 2000

Driving up into Languedoc from the coast, you see the landscape change from the rolling fields and purple vineyards of Provence into something yellower and more scrubby – ochre grasses, little bushes, the occasional stately middle-finger of a cypress. Into the Pyrenees, almost every wooded slope is topped with a picturesque ruined chateau. Vous êtes en pays Cathare, the tourist signs inform you.

Which in itself is a bit weird. There is nowhere in Britain, as far as I know, advertising itself as Lollard Country; when I drive into northern Italy, there are no signs saying ‘Welcome to Lombardy, Land of the Arnoldists’. But Catharism has become a tourist attraction. The Cathars are hailed as an inspiration by various neo-Gnostic groups, praised for their pioneering vegetarianism, their feminism, their antiestablishment free-thinking, their nature-loving eco-friendliness, take your pick.

It's a strange fate for a movement that was an almost unbroken record of suffering and repression for over a century. The Catholic Church had identified it as a clear heresy back in the 1140s, and a twenty-year Crusade was duly waged against the Cathars of Languedoc from 1209–1229 – after which it lingered in scattered remote parts of the Pyrenees until the Inquisition burned the last few believers in the early 1300s. By the mid-fourteenth century it was all over.

Why was it such a problem? A Mediterranean faith, probably originally coming from Byzantium, Catharism held that there are two gods, one good and one evil, and that most of what we see in the world is a creation of evil; human souls are reincarnated after death until they reach a ‘perfect’ state. Obviously this wouldn't sit well with the Church establishment, but it still seems rather strange to think of them launching a Crusade – an actual Crusade, with crusading knights, like what they sent to Jerusalem! – against ostensibly Christian Europeans in the south of France.

The key to understanding this is to wander round Languedoc and appreciate that the whole area, in the thirteenth century, was not France but rather a massive patchwork of little semi-independent feudal territories (of which Andorra has somehow survived to the present day; to imagine early-medieval Languedoc, start by picturing a network of Andorras). Even at the height of Catharism, Cathar believers were probably never a majority, and they certainly weren't by the time of the Crusade against them. The sieges and battles of the Albigensian Crusade were never about Christian armies fighting Cathar armies: they were about French armies fighting Occitanian armies. The crucial before/after difference of the Crusade is not the existence or otherwise of Catharism. It's the fact that before the Crusade, the area was owned by the Counts of Toulouse, the Trencavel viscounts, the Aragonese king, and so on; after the Crusade, it was all owned by France.

This political dimension was clear from what happened after the battles. Statutes introduced by Simon de Montford (the legendarily ruthless early leader of the Crusade), for instance, banned Occitanian noblewomen from marrying local men; instead, they had to give their hands, and their tempting dowries, to Frenchmen. Which is not to say that religion was not a factor; in fact, it may be that the cruelty of the Crusade can only be explained with some reference to religious fanaticism. The tone was set early on with the infamous sack of Béziers, which Stephen O'Shea characterises as ‘the Guernica of the Middle Ages’. It was here that crusaders asked their commander (Arnaud Amalric, the Abbot of Cîteaux) what they were supposed to do, since they couldn't tell who was a heretic and who was a Catholic, prompting the abbot's famous response, Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius ‘Kill them all; God will know his own’. Twenty thousand people were massacred. It was just the first of many disproportionate and unpleasant acts that would characterise the whole conflict.

The Crusade was officially called off in 1229, but fighting rumbled on until for another decade and a half until the Cathar fortress of Montségur, at the top of a dramatic Pyrenean peak, was finally taken after an eleven-month siege. (Having hiked up Montségur myself, fair play to anyone that did it in full armour carrying siege engines.) But the story of Catharism has an interesting postscript, which O'Shea covers in a brief final chapter and which is dealt with more fully by Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie in his classic 1975 microhistory Montaillou. Montaillou is a tiny village in the mountains, where it seems that Catharism lingered on into the 1300s; we know this because the entire village was eventually rounded up and questioned by the Bishop of Pamiers, working in conjunction with the Inquisition in Carcassonne.

The Bishop, Jacques Fournier, kept exquisitely detailed records of his interrogations – Ladurie describes him as ‘a sort of compulsive Maigret’ – and in the hands of a careful historian these allow for an astonishing recreation of rural village life in the early Middle Ages, not just in terms of the locals' religious beliefs but their living habits, sex lives, gossip and almost everything else. Compared to O'Shea, who writes in a free journalistic style (though his endnotes are satisfyingly thorough), Ladurie gives the impression of having one finger always on the primary sources in front of him; his work is built around direct quotation. Though his painstaking detail can occasionally feel punishing, he comes across as definitive. (Which raises interesting questions on the few occasions when the two books under review disagree; for instance, O'Shea rather recklessly talks about the Cathars' ‘protofeminism’, whereas Ladurie says explicitly that Cathar beliefs were not good for women and often misogynistic.)

Eventually Fournier had the last few Cathar intransigents burned at the stake, before he left the mountains and went on to bigger and better things (ultimately becoming Pope Benedict XII, promotion working rather more dramatically in those days). Catharism too has gone on in ways that could hardly have been expected, and it's curious to reflect on what exactly it means to the legions of people that identify as ‘neo-Cathars’ or contribute to sites like www.catharisme.eu. ‘Today Catharism is no more than a dead star,’ Ladurie writes, ‘whose cold but fascinating light reaches us now after an eclipse of more than half a millennium.’ But since he wrote those words in 1975, the dead star seems to be shining brighter than ever.

[Jan-Maat]

This amazing study of life in small village in the early fourteenth century in southern France is a classic example of good use of archive material. The basis of the book were the records of the work of the Papal inquisition against the Cathers who were undergoing a resurgence in that place and time largely through the actions of individual holy men whose local prestige despite public assertions of celibacy allowed them to become deeply embedded in the community.

Le Roy Ladurie's micro-history uses those records to lay bear the daily life of the villagers from loving couples picking fleas off each other as much as to detail popular belief far from the more familiar and regulated Christian life of the towns.

Very interesting on the interdependence between the forms of peasant life and geography.

[Daniela · Rating 4 out of 5]

The village of Montaillou in the South of France was the target of an Inquisitorial investigation in the early 14th century by Bishop Fournier, later Pope Benedict XII. Fournier was an obsessive note-taker, which was bad news for his victims, but great for posterity. Because of his records we have a detailed account of everyday life in this medieval village in the words of those who lived there. Note that these folk, peasants, farmers and shepherds, were, for the most part, illiterate. In normal circumstances, they would never have been able to leave a record or any other proof of their existence. This poses a conundrum, a sort of ethical puzzle: Fournier came in with his Inquisition to disrupt the life of these people; his inquisitorial investigation was concerned not only with rooting out Catharism but also with money, as the peasants were reluctant to pay tithes to the Church. Yet it is precisely this disruption that gave a voice to individuals whose names we would not even know if it weren’t for the action of Bishop Fournier.

Because of him, we are shown the structures of thought and action that sustained life in this village. From marriage to religion, from sex to work (or lack thereof; turns out medieval peasants took a lot of naps) the peasant rhythm of life was different from the life of a town artisan or a burgess in a busy city. The main concern was subsistence, which was not very difficult to achieve. Surplus was rare and not particularly sought after. This, Ladurie argues, prevented capitalism from seeping in. This was a rudimentary economy, with little coin available, still largely based on bartering. Most of the village inhabitants were poor, but relatively well-fed and not destitute by any means.

Relations between sexes were segregated on one hand, but much freer on the other. Sex outside marriage, “concubinage”, and separations (though not divorce) were common at this level of society. I suspect that a lot of ideas people have about the medieval age apply almost exclusively to the ways of the aristocracy and the rich bourgeoisie. Religion is another example: our ideas of medieval and even early modern religiosity are based on the experiences of the educated nobility rather than the lives of the vast majority of the people. In Montaillou there was an immense concern for religion, especially for what Ladurie calls “the salvation of the soul”, that is, what happens to us after death - a pressing concern in an age where people died young. Most in the village subscribed to Catharism and disliked the Roman Church. Yet people didn’t go to Mass often. Many of them didn’t bother with communion. Some openly blasphemed and tended towards materialism. There was a real hatred of priests, who were associated with wealth and laziness.

The absence of historical thought was another inconceivable difference between these 14th century peasants and modernity. This also distinguishes them from the educated elites on the cusp of the Renaissance who knew about the Greeks, the Romans, and the History of the Church and several European Kingdoms. Peasants in Montaillou lived in the present and for the future of their souls after death. They knew Jesus, Mary, the apostles and some other biblical figures of note existed in the past, but they had no conception of how long ago that was. They obviously had no knowledge of different past cultures. Today, we are hostages of our past. It’s overwhelmingly everywhere: in every street name, in every monument, in the foundation of every state. This isn’t to say that the past wasn’t present in the lives of the Montaillou peasants. Their lives were organized according to old customs, highly influenced by a shared heritage which Ladurie classifies as Western Mediterranean culture, encompassing the South of France, the Iberian Peninsula and North Africa. But History as we understand it, a specific set of events in certain years producing a causal effect, was something they didn’t integrate in their worldview. This perfectly showcases how different their worldview was from ours.

At the same time, despite these key differences, much connects us to these humans of the past. They loved their children, they respected their mothers, and they had a healthy distrust of authority. They enjoyed sunbathing and sitting around the fire, talking into the night. It was a highly patriarchal society and violence against women was common (plus ça change…). Like poor people in the Iberian Peninsula just a few decades ago, their lives were ruled by the idea that a man can’t escape his fate.

Ladurie makes too much of the connections between Occitan Catharism and Protestantism, which would be particularly strong in the region a century and a half later. I am not convinced. Yes, these peasants didn’t like religious authorities and they emphasized salvation by faith, but they still gave alms to the poor in order to guarantee their salvation and they needed mediators between God and themselves. Ladurie also attempts to argue that Occitanie was colonized by the Kingdom of France - once again, I am not particularly convinced as to the use of the concept of colonization in this context, which seems to oversimplify the process of state building. If Occitanie was colonized, so was basically every other region of France with the exception of Paris. He also displays a somewhat cavalier attitude towards violence against women, which was a bit disturbing at times.

Overall, this is the stuff great history studies are made of. Ambitious in scope, yet highly readable and entertaining, it didn’t seem particularly difficult to get into, although I was already familiar with the period. I also wish we had more information about Jacques Fournier and his reactions to what he was being told, but I understand that shifting the focus to him would have defeated the purpose of the book.

[Czarny Pies · Rating 5 out of 5]

Written by Emmanuel LeRoy Ladurie, the star pupil of Fernand Braudel and informal leader of the third wave of the Annales school of historians, "Montaillou" was touted as a classic the year it was published in 1975. It unquestionably merits five stars. The problem is that many of its best points are likely to go over the head of anyone un familiar with either medieval France and Catholic theology on sacraments. Fortunately the principal players fornicated even more than they prayed so the book is nonetheless highly entertaining even for the under-qualified reader.
LeRoy Ladurie's book is based on the base on the inquisition register of Mgr. Jacques Fournier of Pamiers (later Pope Benedict XII) containing the transcripts of the interrogations conducted between 1318 to 1325 of individuals suspected of being Cathars. The author insists that the subject of his book is the peasant society of Montaillou a mountainous region on the Spanish border in southwest France rather than the Cathar heresy. LeRoy Ladurie's intention may have been to describe the overall peasant society, but in reality his book says a great deal about Catharism.
LeRoy Ladurie describes the peasants as leading comfortable lives without working very much. They raised livestock and grew crops to feed themselves. Cash came from shepherding. The chief problem was that the Catholic Church had heavy tithes that if paid in full would have compromised their relative prosperity. The practice of the Church was to excommunicate those who did not pay and to persecute as heretics any who embraced Catharism. In LeRoy Ladurie's view it was very hard to distinguish "heresy over tithes from heresy over religion." (p. 21)
LaRoy Ladurie's first point is to insist that the "domus" or "ostal" which could be thought of as the household was the basic social unit. In turn several "domus" ("domii") would be aggregated to form clans. There was no trace of anything that might be considered class consciousness in Marxist terms. The decision to be a Cathar heretic or Catholic was made by the head of the "domus" who would impose it on the entire unit.
While resentment over tithes seems to be have been a factor that predisposed some "domus" leaders towards Catharism, there was still a clear set of beliefs and practices that the members of the Cathar heresy subscribed to. The Cathars believed that the physical world was the creation of the devil while the spiritual world belonged to God. The Cathars had their own priests called parfaits (or bonhommes) and an initiation rite referred to as a consolamentum. The Cathar parfaits were not allowed either to eat meat or engage in sexual relations. Catharism rejected the Catholic doctrine of the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Similiarly Cathars did not believe that extreme unction administered by a Catholic priest had any effect. Rather salvation was achieved through the consolamentum administered by the Cathar parfait or bonhomme.
LeRoy Ladurie provides marvellous descriptions of multiple aspects of the lifestyle of the Montaillou peasants. The most entertaining section is the one dealing with their very free sexual practices. He also writes strong descriptions of their buildings, relations with animals and the relations of the peasants with government officials. He is possibly at his most insightful when he describes the processes of spying and denunciation that dominated the daily lives of the Cathars. In this regard, one can see that LeRoy Ladurie was very much a man of his time as the previous generation of Frenchmen had lived through two rounds of spying and denunciation. In the first round it was the participants of the French Resistance who had been spied on and denounced to the Germans. In the second round, it was Nazi collaborators who were denounced to the Communist vigilantes.
"Montaillou" requires a strong knowledge of medieval France and Roman Catholicism. For the reader with the right background, its pleasures are many.

[Emiliya Bozhilova · Rating 2 out of 5]

Bulgarian review first, followed by the English translation below

Когато Жак Фурние пристига в Монтаю, внася административен ред в досегашната практика на разпити на заподозрени, постига неочаквано добри резултати и не пести усилия. Жак Фурние е амбициозен инквизитор на вододела между 13 и 14 век, който все още не знае, че ще стане един от авиньонските папи. Нито целокупно арестуваните жители на селцето Монтаю подозират, че ще влязат в историята като един от най-добре документираните средновековни френски селяни с техните обичаи, житейски истории и начин на живот.

Етнографията на 19 и 20 век ще черпи с пълни шепи информация от първа ръка от инквизиторските протоколи. Всяко едно свидетелство е от първо лице: жителите на Монтаю ще оставят много малко тайни за своя неумолим и неподкупен инквизитор с психологически подход и неодобрение към бесмислените изтезания. Желание за един по-добър свят, привидян в катарските вярвания; отношение към рода, брака, жената, децата, хигиената, начините за изкарване на прехраната, клюките, лпбовните похождения, скандалите и интригите в малката планинска общност - всичко това е достъпно и днес, хербаризирано за вечни времена в инквизиторските протоколи.

Уви, авторът е разбъркал и парцелирал с научна цел цялата поднесена информация. Би трябвало в отделните глави да получим представа за семейство, религия, брак, положение на жената в това клето селце. Но тъй като героите на всички истории са все едни и същи, то те съвсем не са подозирали колко ценни ще са за науката един ден, и просто, изплашени или обзети от алчност, са изливали душите си в куп реални истории. В книгата тези истории са разпръснати, накъсани, тематизирани...и лишени от каквато и да е последователност и живец. Получило се е досадно, протяжно и накъсано четиво, навяващо тъга, с непрекъсната рязка смяна на фокуса и липса на желание на автора да остави читателя на спокойствие да вникне в тази отминала трагедия. Структурата стои пришита и дразни.

Много ми се искаше да науча повече и за катарите, за периода, за тези конкретни хора, но в този си форма книгата е подходяща само за студенти по етнография/история и за специалисти.

Когато науката остане приложима само за аулите, тя се самоограничава. Това е направил и авторът на изследването.

When Jacques Fournier arrived in Montaillou, he brought administrative order to the existing practice of interrogating suspects, achieving unexpectedly successful results through relentless effort. Fournier was an ambitious inquisitor at the turn of the 14th century, unaware that he would one day become one of the Avignon popes. Nor did the arrested villagers of Montaillou suspect they would enter history as some of the best-documented medieval French peasants, their customs and life stories preserved for eternity.

The ethnography of the 19th and 20th centuries would draw heavily from these first-hand inquisitorial records. Every testimony is in the first person: the inhabitants of Montaillou left few secrets from their inexorable and incorruptible inquisitor, who favored a psychological approach over senseless torture. Their yearnings for a better world seen through Cathar beliefs; their views on lineage, marriage, women, children, and hygiene; their ways of earning a living, their gossip, love affairs, scandals, and intrigues—all of this remains accessible today, "herbarized" forever in the inquisitorial protocols.

Alas, the author has scrambled and partitioned this information for purely scientific purposes. While the chapters are intended to provide insights into family, religion, or the status of women, the result is fragmented. Because the protagonists of these stories are always the same people—who, out of fear or greed, poured their souls into real-life accounts—the narrative feels disjointed. In the book, these stories are scattered, broken, and themed... stripped of any sequence or vitality.

It has resulted in a tedious, long-winded, and fragmented read that evokes sadness through its constant, sharp shifts in focus. The structure feels forced and irritating. While I truly wanted to learn more about the Cathars and these specific individuals, in this form, the book is suitable only for students of ethnography or history specialists. When science remains confined to the lecture hall, it limits itself. This is exactly what the author has done.

2/5⭐️ (for the historical value, not the delivery)

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really fascinating look at what life was like in a little village in the Pyrenees during the early 14th century. Le Roy Ladurie is obsessed with detail, so you'll get to find out all kinds of little anecdotes ranging from friends of different social strata delousing each other to the widespread sexual exploits of the adventurous village priest, Pierre Clergue. It's one of the only chances to see non-nobles and non-clerics of this era as full fledged people with voices, talking about their lives. It swings around from anthropological study to biography to narrative in a way that really gives the village texture. It's really cool.

There are definitely problems - the degree to which testimony taken from inquisitorial records is accurate, among others - but it's a really lovely and almost romantic book. Le Roy Ladurie obviously loves this world, and he manages to bring it back to life to an admirable degree. It almost reads at times like a memorial or a eulogy. Definitely worth a read if you're interested a less institution-heavy view of medieval history.

[Noella · Rating 4 out of 5]

De auteur heeft de verslagen van Jacques Fournier bestudeerd, die hij van de ondervragingen tijdens de inquisitie opgesteld heeft. Dit boek gaat niet zozeer over de vervolgingen van de Katharen, maar uit de verslagen kon de auteur een beeld schetsen van het dorpje Montaillou en omstreken ten tijde van de vervolgingen.
Dit is dus een zeer interessant werk over deze streek en deze tijdsperiode (1294-1324) dat ik met plezier gelezen heb.

[Mihai Zodian · Rating 5 out of 5]

”Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Montaillou, sat occitan de la 1294 până la 1324, Vol. I-II, Editura Meridiane, București, 1992.

O capodoperă a școlii Annales, îmbinând istoria, antropologia și narațiunea. Ladurie a realizat o monografie captivantă a unui sat medieval din Pirinei, bântuit de catarism, ”erezie” de inspirație gnostică cu origini balcanice și Inchiziție, folosind metodele științelor sociale pentru a scoate la suprafață mentalitatea rurală și modul de viață din acest spațiu occitan. Documentarea este furnizată, inedit, de rapoartele anchetatorilor clericali, interpretate cu atenție de către istoric.

Deci antropologie cu Inchiziția pentru a sonda imaginarul colectiv al satului. O cercetare și nu o idealizare însă, ruralul la Ladurie nefiind acel mediu etern depozitar al valorilor reale, ca în unele ideologii nostalgice. Se remarcă și influența noului regionalism postbelic, interesul pentru sudul tradițional al Franței, pentru povești individuale și comunități locate, situate într-o până de structuri și de relații de putere, dar bucurându-se de o oarecare autonomie.

Celebrarea a diversității, lucrarea oferă o respingere a teoriilor elaborate de Ferdinand Tonnies și Karl Marx, care generalizau abuziv și amestecau ideologiile cu cunoașterea[1]. În centrul cărții se află trei personaje: Jacques Fournier, episcop, conducător al anchetelor și viitor papă; la antipozi, Pierre Maury, un cioban relativ sărac, catar, bucurându-se de o anumită libertate. Între ei regăsim una dintre cele mai interesante figuri, Pierre Clergue, parohul catolic din Montaillou, colaborator al anchetatorilor, catar, afemeiat și un adevărat naș local.

”Pierre este un preot destul de conștiincios … face, chiar și când păcătuiește de moarte, slujba de duminică … unul dintre puținii deținători de carte. Pe deasupra, el este reprezentant al Inchiziției din Carcassonne”, îl descrie Ladurie pe Clergue[2]. Șef al celui mai important clan local, observăm de-a lungul cărții cum își construiește o rețea de influență, bazată pe-al său domus/ostal, în același timp familie și gospodărie. Credincios și eretic, el este reprezentativ pentru modul de viață și mentalitățile acestui ținut muntos și sărac.

Ladurie inversează aici abordările structuraliste. Configurația generală a puterii ne ajută, în termeni familiari disciplinei relațiilor internaționale, să înțelegem rezultatele acțiunilor, dar nu ne poate ajuta să analizăm motivația actorilor. Studiul antropologic, cunoașterea relațiilor sociale orizontale din Montaillou ne ajută să înțelegem destinul unei erezii, suspiciunea față de instituțiile ecleziastice, nobiliare și monarhice, formulele gândirii corelate cu un tip specific de ordine socială[3].

La nivel macro, avem comitatul de Foix, Inchiziția din Carcassonne, episcopatul de Pamiers și monarhia[4]. Primele două structuri sunt influențate de familiile dominante din Montaillou, îndeosebi de cea a lui Pierre Clergue, al cărui frate este judecător local[5]. Pluralismul puterii a acordat o marjă de manevră și o oarecare protecție sătenilor din Montaillou, cel puțin până la venirea lui Jacques Fournier, care va unifica autoritățile, suprimând ambiguitățile și va conduce o persecuție în masă a catarilor și la schimbarea relațiilor de putere[6].

Într-un anumit sens, Montaillou, sat occitan este povestea ascensiunii și declinului clanului Clergue[7]. Satul este divizat în domus-uri, adevărate unități de acțiune și de putere în acea lume săracă, oferind o oarecare protecție în schimbul loialității[8]. Ca un adevărat decident realist, Pierre Clergue se folosește de orice mijloc pentru a extinde influența grupului său până când este doborât de anchetele lui Jacques Fournier.

Odată concentrate, structurile globale de putere transformă și relațiile dintre aceste domus. Rudele lui Fournier, la rândul său occitan de obârșie modestă se vor implica în conflictele pentru putere din Montaillou, iar catolicismul va înfrânge catarismul. Lucrurile stau așa cel puțin în aparență, căci Ladurie insistă asupra faptului că atât relațiile de putere, cât și religiile sunt numai niște ferestre, impregnate de relațiile și mentalitățile rurale, cel puțin aici.
Loialitatea față de domus era principiul de bază al organizării satului respectiv și adeziunile religioase urmau afilierile și rivalitățile dintre familii[9]. La origine, nemulțumirile față de colectarea dijmei au indus un sentiment anticlerical de care se vor folosi misionarii catari[10]. Jacques Fournier colecta taxele în aceeași măsură în care căuta eretici, atribuții exercitate și de Pierre Clergue la apogeul puterii sale.

Ladurie ne-a adus în atenție o panoramă fascinantă a mentalului rural montaillez. Timpul, ”întotdeauna mișcător”[11]; spațiul parohial[12]; un ”simț al frumosului” legat de concret[13]; o ”relația de participare” la viața naturii[14]. Unul dintre aspectele interesante este respingerea teoriei evoluționiste după care toți tăranii sunt aproape păgâni și adepți ai magiei: ”ei își centrează cultura mai mult pe ostal decât pe pământ”[15], iar ”mântuirea sufletului este problema … cea adevărată”[16].

Montaillou, sat occitan reprezintă o carte bogată narativ, epistemologic, metodologic și dificil de recenzat din acest motiv. Ladurie ne vorbește despre importanța puterii dar și despre valoarea localului. Printre rivalități și credințe, unele portrete, cel al lui Clergue sau al lui Maury, puternic individualizate ne privesc dinspre veacuri.

________________________________________
[1] Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Montaillou, sat occitan de la 1294 până la 1324, Editura Meridiane, București, 1992, vol. I, pp. 120-129.
[2] Idem, p. 143.
[3] Vezi Vicuslusorum, ”Montaillou, sat occitan”, Vicuslusorum`s Blog,https://vicuslusorum.wordpress.com/20... (accesat august 2014).
[4] Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Montaillou, sat occitan, Vol. I, pp. 60-67.
[5] Idem, p. 68.
[6] Idem, pp. 61-67.
[7] Idem, pp. 148, 161.
[8] Idem, pp. 88-90.
[9] Idem, p. 90.
[10] Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Montaillou, sat occitan de la 1294 până la 1324, Editura Meridiane, București, 1992, vol. I, pp. 128, 280.
[11] Idem, p. 139.
[12] Idem, p. 142.
[13] Idem, p. 168.
[14] Ibidem.
[15] Idem, p. 192.
[16] Idem, p. 195.”

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[Terence · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I began my undergraduate career I was part of an honors seminar where this was one of the books we read.

It was an eye-opening experience and probably did as much as anything at that time in propelling me to specialize in Medieval history. Montaillou was a village in southern France that suffered an inquisitorial investigation in the mid-14th century because of a recrudescence of the Cathar heresy (which had been "eradicated" in the previous century, or so the Church believed). The book's fascination and brilliance lies not so much in its discussion of the inquisition but in the insight the inquisition's depositions (that it took from the peasants) gives into the lives of the people of Montaillou.

LeRoy Ladurie is a major figure in the Annales strain of Medieval historiography, which focuses on such sources to tease out how people lived and thought, and Montaillou is one of the better examples for a general reading audience to enjoy.

It's been 20 years since I read this book but I can still remember the sexual peccadillos of the village cleric, Le Clergue, and I would recommend this book to anyone interested in the period and looking for something other than a history that relies upon the usual sources - monastic chronicles, primarily - and talks about the usual "stuff" - politics & economics.

[Ian · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mixed feelings. On the one hand there’s no doubt this book opens a fascinating window on late medieval life. On the other, I can’t but admit I found this a slow read.

The basis of the book is that in the early 14th century the tiny village of Montaillou, on the north side of the Pyrenees, saw most of its inhabitants subscribe to the Cathar heresy, which had once been widespread in Southern France. A Church Inquisitor, Jacques Fournier, interrogated the villagers. He was relentless in questioning them and was obsessive about detail, wanting to know everything about the villagers’ lives. Fournier later became Pope Benedict XII and deposited the records of his interrogations in the Vatican Library, and that’s how we come to have this extraordinary insight into life in 14th century Montaillou.

It was a poor place. Everyone was poor and “nobles” scarcely lived any better than peasants, even if they were granted a certain social deference. On the other hand, the peasants were free. This area did not have the huge inequalities of the Ǐle de France, where immensely wealthy nobles ruled over wretched serfs. Although the peasants had to do backbreaking work to survive, they did not strive after wealth and were not bound by the timetabling of modern life. When they chose to, they would take long breaks from work and sit in the sun to talk to their neighbours.

There’s a lot in here about the relationships between men and women. Girls were married as young teenagers, generally to men 15-20 years older than they were. All the men seemed to have used violence against their wives to a greater or lesser degree, but interestingly the author suggests the lives of women generally improved as they aged. Because wives were so much younger than their husbands, they mostly outlived them, and older widows with adult children lived out their days as respected matriarchs. Older men experienced the opposite. Once into his fifties, a man lost his position as head of the household to his oldest son and had to defer to the latter. Married or not, most of the villagers, male and female, had pretty racy love lives. As is often the case, there was one particular man who took the role of village Lothario, in this case it was the village priest!

Reading the book, I gained the impression that Catharism was an early expression of the very French tradition of anti-clericalism, which has been a big part of French history and is still a part of French life today. The clergy were viewed as parasites who did no work and who lived off the sweat of others, and reading these pages you get a clear sense that many people regarded them with intense hostility. On the whole people were anti-clerical rather than anti-religious, but there were also a fair number of sceptics who denied the existence of God altogether, something which was extremely dangerous to do.

Despite all the plus points, I did struggle with this book at times. When I said that Bishop Fournier recorded every detail I mean EVERY detail. Long stretches of the book were descriptions of everyday conversations, or the annual changes of employment for shepherds, who might work for a different farmer each year. Of course, this is fantastic material for historians, maybe less so for the general reader. It’s for that reason that, for me, this was a 3-star read rather than anything more.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

The problem with ‘Montaillou’ has nothing to do with the book, and everything to do with my trying to read it whilst on a train that was delayed by six, yes SIX, hours. (Overhead lines blew down.) Since the intended arrival time was 8pm, at 1am I was still trying to find a comfortable reading position on a train seat, whilst distracted by low blood sugar and a loud drunken hen party. In short, I was not in the best of moods during much of reading process. Nonetheless, it is a fascinating and unique book. Life in the French village of Montaillou in the early 14th century is unusually well documented thanks to an assiduous inquisitor. Bishop Fournier interviewed nearly every adult in the village about their lives and the answers survived the centuries. The pretext for inquisitorial involvement was the village’s association with Catharism, a heretical sect. Indeed, discussing heresy seems to have been a favourite hobby throughout the village, although different people displayed different levels of sincere interest.

I was pleased by how well the author managed to balance academic rigor and approachability in the narrative. The stories of particular village characters are told, as well as more thematic topics like attitudes to family, home, and time. Perhaps the most memorable personage is the erstwhile village priest, Pierre Clerge, a heretic and womaniser. He and his brother Bernard were for a while the most powerful people in the village. The detailed nature of the accounts quoted allows an insight into the personalities involved. These quotations feel, in fact, like a little window to a very different time, one that is difficult to imagine today. The best analogy I could come up with was that heresy as a discussion topic filled the space now taken up by politics, history, and all forms of media. All philosophical, scientific, or metaphysical talk was essentially religious. It is wonderful to think of the fireside chats involving both parochial gossip and debate about whether the soul was just ‘a thing of blood’. Of particular note to me was the insight that in a situation of near-total illiteracy and complete absence of schooling, men and women conversed from the same level of knowledge.

This is very definitely a social history, evoking the daily life of Montaillou’s inhabitants, their relationships, work, mores, and habits. It also reminded me of the heterogeneity of the Medieval period, despite the frequent generalisation of Europe's ‘Dark Ages’. The brief period in the early 14th century covered here seems to have been quite comfortable for the villagers, until the inquisition turned up and arrested them en masse. However, it was a distinctly different kind of life to that found in nearby towns, let alone other countries, at the same time.

Thank you Rae for recommending this to me!

[Jake Goretzki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jacques Gouresq* (the cousin of Gulllemette Maur, sister of Guillemette Lesse) found the book on the one hand fascinating for its vivid picture of 14th century life ('tabula lucida'); on the other endearingly tedious and caught up in its own obsessive genealogical detail.

One day, sunning themselves outside the Moulinex ostal, he said to Bernard Maur (brother-in-law of the bayle, Bernard Lesse):

'You people are a curious, often likeable lot. I get the draw of that Cathar stuff - it does at least allow you to have a bit of a laugh while you're alive. Those shepherds are basically proto-hippies ('quasi-boomerati irritandi'). Not sure about the sleeping with your close relatives and not washing though. You really need to wash more, you know. The clergy sure as hell haven't changed much, either. Sleazy fuckers".

To which the parfait, Raymond Alazais replied "Can you give me a hand with my lice?"

Gouresq answered: "No. But you know what I mean about the really micro genealogical detail about who is who, and who is married to who? It sure goes on a bit, brother"

"Cousin. Of your aunt's brother-in-law. From Gaufrette Saint-Gilles"

"Sorry, cousin. Right you are"

*not to be confused with Jacques Gouresq of Gloire-le-Matin, in the neighbouring comte of Arse-Craque - then part of Catalonia.

[Eressea · Rating 5 out of 5]

終於讀完了，這應該是要五星的書
但我讀了一年才讀完
實在不知道能寫出什麼像樣的東西了

作者文筆不能說不好
就是整本書太百科全書又太鉅細靡遺了
讀起來十分瑣碎，感覺年鑑學派的書都是這種調調
加上蒙塔尤人取名字十分沒創意
一大堆紀堯姆、莫里、皮埃爾
看得我暈頭轉向不知道誰是誰

不過能有這麼詳細的內容
都要感謝時任帕米埃主教的雅克·富尼埃
在擔任宗教裁判所法官期間出於個人堅持
留下無比詳細的口供，今天才有這本書看

其實一開始想看這本書是看了馬丁蓋赫返鄉記提到
後來又因為純潔派書上都說是摩尼教的後代
但實際看了之後並沒有多著墨純潔派與摩尼教的關聯
全書摩尼教三字應該只出現不到五次吧~
只能從被稱為"好基督徒"，"善人"的純潔派教長言行中感覺摩尼教的影響
其實"善人"看起來就很有摩尼味了
另外還有教長不吃肉(魚當時不算"肉")
"信奉阿尔比派的农民认为，我们的世界（原则上）很不好
人的一生就是折磨人的疾病"
"纯洁派认为人的躯体来自魔鬼，所以是要消失的"
等等似乎跟我從東方摩尼教研究看到的教義很像

但光摩尼教的中文書就很少了
講基督教異端的中文書大概沒有吧

除此之外這一年中最有印象的只剩三點了
一是蒙塔尤那麼多異端家庭
很大原因是正統教會抽什一稅
但交了稅靈魂還是不能保證被拯救
(古人實在非常在意死後靈魂能不能被拯救耶...)
而信奉純潔派
"有血有肉的当地圣人能解决一切问题，
只要送些礼物即可，
而送礼的开销终究比交纳什一税轻。"
沒想到馬基維利的"殺父之仇可忘，奪財之恨難消"那麼好用
連蒙塔尤這個小山村也適用

二是雖然農民們在意靈魂是否被拯救
但純潔派的臨終慰藉禮讓山民們
"因为有了慰藉，在世时就可以不依伦理标准而依习俗自由地做人，
这样也算不得胡来。有了慰藉，就不必过于操心，
因为，去往彼岸世界远游之前，
只要做了慰藉，就可以洗掉一切罪恶。"
怎麼跟日本淨土真宗那麼像啊~
看來人們都很會給自己找理由放縱哈哈哈

最後是當時的宗教裁判所不像後來西班牙的同行
動不動就在燒女巫
帕米埃主教雅克·富尼埃不太在意巫術
但非常在意異端思想
就算如此，真正上火刑架的人也很少~
有點顛覆我對羅馬教會的想像了

額外的收穫是在看小書痴的下剋上時發現
小書痴描述的平民生活
跟蒙塔尤裡的中世紀農村家庭生活模式異常吻合
看來小書痴作者功夫下得很深喔

這本大概是我進度紀錄最詳細的一本書了
但大概不會再看第二遍??
--
190529購入kindle版

[Malcolm · Rating 5 out of 5]

I adore this book - it is one of the great texts of history from below and a real lesson in use of an archive to read through official records to find the stories of the people. Le Roy Ladurie uses the official court, legal and church archives to explore the Albigensian heresy - the Cathars - in the Pyrenees during the late 13th and early 14th centuries. His reading of the archives is so subtle and insightful that we find family stories and detailed accounts of the lives of the peasant inhabitants of Montaillou, the last village to support the 'heresy' and the recipients of special attention form the Inquisition as the church set out to reassert its authority. Quite brilliant.

[Sasha]

Apparently some Inquisitor back in the 14th century performed exceptionally detailed interrogations on an entire town; the author used those records to piece together a new look at exactly what life was like in that town. So it's not so much about the Inquisition as it is about every day life. Interesting, huh? GR reviews indicate it's not a thrilling read, but it's a pretty cool idea.

[Jordy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Voordat ik begon met lezen, wist ik al dat dit een meesterwerk was. Ladurie heeft met zijn microgeschiedenis van Montaillou een alternatieve bestudering van het verleden op de kaart gezet. De auteur laat zien dat geschiedenis niet alleen over de grootste lijnen hoeft te gaan.

Dit boek doet een poging om de verschillende aspecten van het dagelijkse leven uit een middeleeuws bergdorp in beeld te brengen voor de lezer. Het is een hele reis door huishoudens, economie, sociale banden en uiteraard religie. Door het uitgebreide werk van Jacques Fournier - die later paus Benedictus XII zou worden - krijgen we vanuit het perspectief van de inwoners met letterlijke citaten een aardig beeld van het dorpje Montaillou. Waar het bronmateriaal tekortschiet, is de auteur ook niet te beroerd om andere primaire en secundaire bronnen te raadplegen die over de geografische omgeving van het dorp gaan.

Het sterkste punt in het boek dat je je als lezer ook realiseert, is dat het algemene feodale beeld van de middeleeuwen lang niet altijd klopt. Ladurie toont aan dat macht in Montaillou gebaseerd was op een domus (huishouden) en niet op de drie standen binnen de feodaliteit. Daarnaast hield men er een soort gemengd christendom op na, dat ook terug te voeren is op pre-christelijke tradities die in het gebied van Montaillou bestonden.

Veelgehoord kritiekpunt is dat dit boek moeilijk leesbaar is door de vele details. Ik denk niet dat dit het geval is, want de details maken het boek. De vele verhoudingen van de pastoor zijn bijvoorbeeld moeilijk om te vergeten. Al denk ik wel dat de vele herhalingen op een moment beginnen op te vallen. De auteur vult tekorten aan met ander bronmateriaal, maar wil het dossier toch centraal blijven stellen als hoofdbron. Daardoor krijg je vooral veel herhalingen te lezen m.b.t. religieuze zaken, omdat sommige personages zoals Jean Maury en Beatrice de Planissoles ook uitvoerig daarover zijn ondervraagd door de inquisitie. Hun ondervragingen bevatten voor de meeste hoofdstukken dus cruciale informatie.

Concluderend, zeker een aanrader voor ieder. Ladurie hanteert een verfrissende invalshoek waar zelfs moderne lezers niet snel aan zouden denken. Geschiedenis kan ook heel lokaal worden beschreven en dat geeft nieuwe inzichten.

[Matthías Ólafsson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Iconic rannsókn og texti. Sem sagnfræðingur er ég mjög hallur undir Annálaskólann og mínar rannsóknir eru undir miklum áhrifum af t.d. Le Roy Ladurie, Braudel og Le Goff. Ég fann fyrir miklum innblæstri af þessum lestri en það er samt ýmislegt (sem áður hefur verið bent á) sem er hægt að setja út á varðandi túlkun heimildanna (sem eru magnaðar!). Ég kann samt bara svo að meta góðan sagnfræðitexta sem höfðar til allra en tekst á sama tíma að viðhalda stöðlum fræðigreinarinnar. Hats off to you Le Roy Ladurie.

[Kathleen · Rating 3 out of 5]

A micro-history of a medieval Pyrenean village under the scrutiny of an Inquisitor who will one day be Pope. A lascivious priest who not only seduces half his flock, but also instructs them in the heterodox traditions of the Cathars, that extinct and bizarre sect of Christianity whose philosophy sometimes seemed to hold truck with Zoroaster and Pythagoras more than it did the early Church fathers. Sex, death and delousing--sounds too good to be true.

Unfortunately, it is a bit. While the subject matter cannot help but engage, the writing (or the English translation and abridgement, at any rate) leaves a little to be desired. This could be overlooked, but sloppy prose may here indicate sloppy process all round. While hunting for an edition of Fournier’s original transcripts (nigh impossible without access to a decent university library), I came across a review by Medieval historian David Herlihy (Social History, Oct, 1979). He writes: “a comparison of some of the translated texts with the Latin originals is disconcerting [...] some paraphrases radically distort the meaning of the text”. And Herlihy furnishes examples enough to make one legitimately concerned that “the use [the author] makes of a magnificent document is sloppy and manipulative. Like the harassed heretics who appeared before Jacques Fournier’s tribunal, Le Roy Ladurie gives testimony concerning doings in a medieval peasant village which, regrettably, cannot be trusted.” Yikes.

When all’s said and done, I’m glad I read the book-—it's a decent introduction to a fascinating and obscure episode in history, and in many ways I think it's what History ought to be: events and people are not considered in a vacuum; to untangle the elusive knot between cause and effect, the historian follows many threads, making judicious use of the insights various social sciences can provide. But ultimately history does not depend upon how far one can springboard off the historical sources into the murky--and often perilous--waters of these as-yet unfathomed disciplines (which only the keenest of scholars are able to navigate with any success); it depends on a –thorough- familiarity with and understanding of the primary sources themselves. Because “Montaillou” was near-universally hailed as a monumental success, no one since has attempted to better it, or made much further use of the original documents. It irks me not a little that, after peaking my curiosity, Le Roy Ladurie left me certain of only one thing: that he was choosing evidence to suit theory, not using evidence to build one; what’s worse, that he did this so successfully it went unnoticed.

[Wim Chielens · Rating 2 out of 5]

Weer eens zo’n boek gelezen dat me al 30 jaar of zo schuldig aankijkt van “wanneer neem je me nu eens”... Nu dus, 55 jaar na verschijning in ‘t Frans. De tijden zullen wel veranderd zijn en ik kan me inbeelden dat de aanpak in 1975 haast revolutionair was: de geschiedschrijving van een handvol mensen uit één enkel dorp in een relatief korte periode (1290 tot 1329). De auteur pakt dat zeer systematisch aan en hij beschrijft alle aspecten van het leven van de bewoners: hoe ze hun brood verdienden, hoe ze samen leefden, hoe ze woonden, aten en dronken, vrijden en trouwden, trouw en ontrouw waren, haatten en liefhadden, geloofden en verketterden... Allemaal uiterst interessant, maar er is iets vreemd aan dit boek. De bron, de enige bron waaruit de auteur put als het over de persoonlijke levens van de mensen gaat, is het gedetailleerde verslag van gesprekken (verhoren?) van een bisschop in het kader van de inquisitie. Bijna alle dorpelingen zijn Katharen (=ketters) en dus weten we dat de inquisitie hen zwaar zal aanpakken, maar dat zwaard van Damocles valt nooit. Je moet lezen in de bijlage achteraan het boek hoe het elk van hen is vergaan. Dat het hele boek dus enkel een horizontale filering van het dorp en zijn bewoners maakt (hoe ze leefden) en geen verticale lijn, ik bedoel een chronologische lijn trekt, vond ik op de duur frustrerend en een beetje ergerlijk. Hun geloof en de inquisitie is alom tegenwoordig in het boek, maar hoe het hen écht verging, wie hen aan de galg praatte (want er wordt wat verklikt in dat dorp!!) is misschien doorheen het boek wel te reconstrueren maar eigenlijk niet te volgen. Ik zal wel te veel een “verhaaltjeslezer” zijn terwijl ik héél erg geïnteresseerd ben in geschiedenis, maar ik bleef steeds meer op mijn honger zitten en dat was, zelfs tijdens de Vastentijd op de duur niet te harden.

[Peter · Rating 2 out of 5]

A ground breaking way of studying history, closer to the way it was experienced by the “boots on the ground,” who seem not so different from most of us. Unfortunately, the point is made at the cost of most interest, because the emotional data points that drive the heroic or romantic (a.k.a., the traditional) version of history and infuse it with the drama of a narrative with some kind of point or denouement, when an historian attempts to detail individual villager lives based on church and mayoral dispute records, narrative drama is hard to come by. Instead, one constantly fights against sleep and asks oneself, “so what?” while reaching again for that can of Mountain Dew and trying not to glance again at the clock in the fourth floor study room that you know registers well past midnight. Godspeed, goodly priests and French historians, and good night.

[Олег Магдич · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ця книга стала класикою історичною антропології та неабияк підняла у французькою суспільстві зацікавлення історією ( наклад - 1 млн екзмеплярів). Таке відчуття ніби автор сів у машину часу, пеереніся у XIV cт. та зняв село Монтайю на відеокамеру. Звичайно автору пощастило,є що збереглися досить точні джерела. Однак надзвичайно грунтовний та фундаментальний аналіз привів до того, що читачі побачили інше С��редньовіччя. Не лише епоху рицарів та монахів. а епоху звичного життя. Як люди жили, як уявляли світ, свій дім як ставилися до близьких, як займалися сексом. Крім того, як люди комунікували та як вибудовали свій маленький соціальний простір

Цікаво, що цю книгу Лядюрі написав через декілька років після,як висловив гасло "Майбутній історик або буде програмістом, або його не буде"

[Marc Lamot · Rating 3 out of 5]

Based on the Inquisition reports by jacques Fournier, bishop in the south of France, at the beginning of the 14th Century, later pope. Montaillou was the last bastion of Catharism. This book is a difficult read, but of course particularly fascinating!

[Gretha · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating!

[Daniel Schrimpf · Rating 3 out of 5]

What was life like in the Middle Ages; not for kings and queens, knights and ladies, but for everyday people?
Peasants, sheperds, and craftspeople used to appear as background filler in medieval historiography, if at all.

That changed with the publication of Ladurie's book, which details the lives of Pyrenaean peasants around the year 1300, based on detailed Inquisition protocols.

The reason why we know so much about Montaillou during that time is that it was a haven for Catharism, a heretic sect, which the Inquisitor Jacques Fournier came to eradicate. He interviewed just about every inhabitant of Montaillou over 14, and recorded a lot of information about the peasants everyday life, which to him would have been useless, but which are absolutely fascinating to the historian.

We learn people's names, their beliefs, who their friends and enemies are, what they eat, what they do for fun, and how they live. What families dominate the village? Who cheated who with whom? who harbours heretics and who is a papist spy?
Based on the book, there must have been a lot of gossipping at that time and also looser morals than one would expect of the Middle Ages. A good portion of the book is dedicated to extra-marital affairs. It also seems to have been a deeply misogynist society, where intra- and extra-marital rape were normal.

Some characters in the book stand out, like the shepherd Pierre Maury, who is content with his simple life and laughs Bad fortune in the face. He keeps getting cheated by his best friend, a heretic priest, but he doesn't care and bounces back from everything.
Pierre Clergue, the village priest, on the other hand, is a sinister figure. Head of the most powerful family in Montaillou, and a secret heretic, he uses his influence to intimidate the other families into doing his bidding and threatens delivering any critic to the Inquisition. but he overplays his hand and ends up in a Carcassonne cell himself.

The book shines most when its characters come to life and the reader comes face to face with people who actually existed. Unfortunately, at least for me, a lot of the book was also quite boring, especially in the second half, where I ended up skimming some chapters. It's sometimes difficult to keep track of all the characters, especially since most of the men are called Pierre, Bernard, or Raymond, and most of the women are called Raymonde, Guillemette, or Alazaïs (cool name by the way).

Another weakness of the book is its treatment of the source material. of course it is exciting to have such an abundance of seemingly firsthand accounts of authentic medieval people. The records are even kept in the first person singular, so it sounds as if Pierre Maury himself is speaking. This often makes it feel like one is listening to someone tell a story by a campfire, when in fact they were being interviewed, and most likely tortured by the Inquisition, which also recorded what they said. This fact needs to be kept in mind when reading the book.
People might be saying things to save themselves from the stake, or to implicate others. The scribes might be recording some statements unfaithfully or even invent statements to help the prosecution. Ladurie doesn't seem to differentiate, and seems to put complete trust in his sources.

Montaillou is a landmark book, the archetype of the historical microstudy and definitely not a bad book. sometimes a slog to read. I'm glad I read it but I am also glad to be done with it.

[Hidde Heijnis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Montaillou slaagt erin om een Occitaans dorpje rond 1300 tot leven te wekken. De Engelse subtitel slaat met ‘eavesdropping across time’ de spijker op de kop. Ladurie is op zoek naar de levenswijze en levenbeschouwing van de simpele peasants en gaat in dit boek bij wijze van spreken naast hen zitten bij het vuur om hun gesprekken tot laat in de avond af te luisteren. Een ketters geloof, gemixt met oude tradities bracht vrijwel het hele dorp voor de inquisitie. Dit levert een bron van informatie op. Van het actieve sexleven van de lokale priester die de catchphrase: ‘gotta catch them all’ lijkt aan te hangen tot het avontuurlijke bestaan van schapen herder Pierre Maury, er is ontzettend veel vastgelegd.

[Jorg · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ik vond de schrijfstijl (zeker in combinatie met de tsunami aan namen, plaatsen en data) wel erg onnavolgbaar bij tijd en wijle, maar natuurlijk interessante manier van geschiedschrijving. Overigens had dit boek best wel minimaal 50% korter kunnen (mogen?) zijn, zoveel herhaling staat erin.

[John Tarttelin · Rating 4 out of 5]

It might appear at first glance that this book was about just another dry religious sect or schism, in this case concerning the Cathars or Albingensians back in the Fourteenth Century, that had long since vanished and was of little lasting importance. However, as strange as their beliefs might seem to us now, this is not the case. We might scoff at metempyschosis - the belief that souls could travel from humans to animals and back again - but when the individual testimonies of the people of Montaillou grilled by the Catholic Inquisition are looked at we can see astonishing parallels with our own times. Some of the characters are so familiar that pretty soon Montaillou starts to read like a soap opera or a medieval version of Dynasty.

There is the parish priest Pierre Clergue, the most powerful man in the village who tries to run with the hare and the hounds, occasionally shielding his Cathar neighbours from the fury of the Inquisition. However, most of his time is spent rutting with the female members of his congregation, the younger the better. He has affairs like other men have breakfast - with the local member of the nobility on one occasion - or he relishes a quickie with some poor peasant girl or penniless bastard on another. Pierre isn't choosy and is a one-man Second Coming.

Then there is Pierre Maury the shepherd who also hedges his religious bets, even if his heart is with the 'good men'. He is full of simple wisdom and he really knows how to enjoy life even if he feels like many a shepherd that he was far too poor to ever get married. There was always female company to be had in the local taverns. Most of the time he spends bonding with his fellow shepherds in their mountain huts and is so popular he becomes their virtual leader. Like many in Montaillou he feels that the established church is far too rich and that their supposed poor clergy and monks eat far too well.

There are several major families in Montaillou and they all try to maintain the wealth and integrity of their domus or household. Some even say aloud that incest is preferable to letting one of the girls of the family go to another domus and take her dowry with her. Their religious beliefs are very plastic and flexible especially when the future of their domus is at stake.

Far from being downtrodden peasants at the mercy of the feudal system, many of the peasants of Montaillou had time to waste and spent hours delousing each other in the doorway of their domus while sharing the latest gossip. And this is how the heresy spread: "all the evidence we have emphasises the mystical, religious and central significance of the domus for the people of Montaillou. Conversely, 'as one measly pig contaminates the whole sty', an individual infected with dogmatic deviation soon spread the disease to all his domus. Though there were exceptions, a person's belief was generally that of his house." (Page 30).

There was little real evidence of a class system in the village and people of all stations were happy to chat and do favours for each other. Beatrice de Planissoles might have lived in the local chateau, but she was happy to be bedded by the priest, even in the church, ( as long as they took precautions as a pregnancy would be somewhat embarrassing) and she was content to chatter and gossip by the fire with the old ladies in the village.

Come to Montaillou - all life is there! What a great TV series could be made of the lives and loves of its fascinating inhabitants.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Montaillou has been on my to-read mountain for over three years. I was recommended it by a professor at my university who through a twist of fate was equally admired as an academic in the three subjects I majored in as an undergraduate (history, sociology and anthropology). Montaillou is a micro-history, pulling apart piece-by-piece the lives of the 250 or so inhabitants of a small alpine town in the early 1300′s. It’s made possible by Jacquest Fournier, Bishop of Pamiers, who recorded everyday conversation after conversation during the Cathar inquisition. Fortunately for us Jacquest became Pope Benedict XII, so his tireless (and perhaps tiresome) efforts made their way into the Vatican Library and eventually into the hands of Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie.

The book itself . . . is really something quite breathtaking. It’s in an academic guise, but Le Roy Ladurie lays out 14th century life in a way that is so vivid it’s like watching it all play out in front of your eyes. It shows just how much the world has changed (I’m quite glad that delousing is no longer an acceptable social activity) while simultaneously showing how human emotion and needs have not. The people Le Roy Ladurie focuses on could easily be people today: worrying about money, having affairs, getting tricked by their friends, marrying the right person, or the wrong one. Montaillou doesn’t hesitate to get down to the nitty gritty. There are whole chapters on sex and passages examining attitudes to incest and family violence that are treated with exactly the same academic gravity as is given to the chapter on conceptions of time and space. It gives the reader the most wonderfully complete picture. I loved having some preconceptions about the period confirmed (people really did carry their belongings on a stick over their shoulder) and some knocked over. This isn’t a work of historical interpretation or historiography. Le Roy Ladurie doesn’t really make conclusions and I’m grateful, it’s like he’s recognising that it’s not his job to do so. Instead, he advances from his unique, comprehensive source only so far as to group it in topics and put it in language that we can understand. Le Roy Ladurie also almost entirely ignores the inquisition itself which brought the source text into being, beyond references to characters being imprisoned or persecuted. On the one hand, sometimes I felt like I would have liked to know how it all related. On the other hand, it makes ethnography the true focus, resulting in a portrayal that is even more real.

What makes Montaillou even better is even though it’s a thoroughly serious and brilliant academic work, it reads like fiction. There are characters that we love, my favourite being the thinking-man’s shepherd Pierre Maury. There are characters we like less, like the lecherous priest Pierre Clergue. When I finished, I was sad to leave them and their stories behind. Like fiction, we don’t find out what happens to most of them after the Cathar inquisition, unless they died in prison.

I wish I hadn’t left it so long to get to Montaillou. It gives a unparalled perspective on a time we can’t ever know and one that we can trust is grounded in fact, rather than historical interpretation, without being stodgy or hidden in academic jargon. If you feel like picking this one up though, I’d suggest reading at least a Wikipedia page on the Cathars first.

[Chris Gager · Rating 4 out of 5]

This one's been on my radar for a long time and on my to-read list for a while. I was at the dump yesterday and doing my usual bookshelf straightening service and poof! - there it was. Score! Pretty interesting so far.

This is turning out to be a bit of a slog, though the scholar-author has tried to make it as readable as possible. He assumes that you're already interested in the topic and can handle all the detail. Still, one is slowly getting to "know" the area being examined and it's inhabitants. They lived about as far back as the Anasazi of the four corners area that I did some archaeology with one summer many years ago. In this case the years are the early 1300's. It's fascinating stuff if you can get into it.

Slowly working my way through this. Almost fascinating ... Actually, I was wrong about the Anasazi(further back by 500 years or so), but there were native societies in the SW from the post-1000's that are studied extensively by SW archaeologists. The Salado ...

Still plodding along. It seems weird to say that I'm enjoying a book of which I can only digest a few pages at a time, but it's true. To read this is an immersive experience, but not exactly a thrilling one. I'll finish it some day. June???

Still "working" on this one. Not exactly a page-turner, but interesting all the same.

The author has now turned to the emotional and sexual lives of the subject folk and things automatically become more interesting. Good stuff ...

Now I'm into the exploits of Pierre Clerque, the womanizing(and then some!) priest. The guy never stopped. He wanted to bleep EVERYONE(no guys though - so far).

I'm about halfway through now. Still interesting, but no page-turner for sure.

Past halfway and still plugging away. Like climbing a long mountain trail that's not too steep, but -just goes on and on. I looked up Montaillou yesterday on-line. The old village, the one of this book, was abandoned a few centuries ago and a new village was built just down the hill. Some structural remains are still in existence, but mostly it's just pile of rocks now. The end of this book has a section about excavations at Montaillou. I don't know that there's been much of that to this day.

100 pages to go ...

One more night!

Oops ... didn't quite finish last night. This isn't a page-turner so it was easy enough to just go to bed when I needed to. BTW, my book has only 383 pages, including the extra stuff at the end.

So ... after all this time spent and all the detail absorbed what was my impression? This was a different kind of cultural/historical history for me. The author brings his focus right down to ground level. If you care to, you can feel like you're right there with the beleaguered peasants of Montaillou. Though poor, their lives weren't especially stressful - materially speaking. They became ensnared in what must have seemed like an attractive alternative to the parasitic Catholic Church. And they paid dearly for their heresy. The author doesn't focus so much on that story, however, despite the fact that it was the Inquisition that produced all the first-person testimony upon which this book is based. It's all about describing the time going by world that those folks inhabited. I can't call it a 5* reading experience. It wasn't really fascinating. Engrossing might be a better word. NOT a book for everyone, that's for sure.

- 4.25* rounds down to 4*