The three ughs
Ugh No 1. – I thought I’d better grab up a short account of the Reformation as some essential background info for Wolf Hall which I’m about two thirds through, wow, what a beast that is. In Wolf Hall there is an account of the burning of a Lollard. These were religious radicals who attempted an original Reformation in the 14th and 15th centuries. This particular Lollard was an old woman who was said to have proclaimed that the bread in the Mass is just bread, same as at the bakers, and the figures of the saints are just sticks of wood, nothing more. So they tie her up and load on the fuel and torch her and have a good time watching the old woman howl and writhe. One kindly woman ensures that young Thomas Cromwell has a front row view. The crowd gets a bit irritated if the smoke obscures their view of the writhings of the old woman. So the Reformation was kind of all like that. For your opinions, we will think of a very cruel way to kill you, and we will gain the Lord’s favour by so doing, and indeed, so meritorious is this kind of thing in the eyes of the Lord that you get points by just watching. And points mean prizes, and the prize is : years knocked off the time you will serve in Purgatory. (You know what Purgatory is, right, it’s being in a motel room with a busted tv which is only showing Fox News and, randomly, an Australian porn channel from the 1980s, for 300 years. And when the tv goes off, they pipe the complete works of Boney M through on some kind of hidden speaker. You could spend twelve years just trying to find the speaker so you can break it, but you never do. It’s Purgatory.)
Well, this kind of universal hideousness gets an UGH from me, I don’t want to think about it, it’s horrible.
Ugh No 2. - on top of the cruelty-seen-as-good-for-you and the sanctified sadism, you get the completely alien brains of these religious people, which was all people in these centuries. In their brains, beliefs matter, more than anything can conceivably matter to the likes of us except the lives of our children. So a guy will meditate many years about whether, as in the above example, the bread and wine in the Mass actually transubstantiates, becomes the flesh and blood of the Christ or just consubstantiates, becomes like the flesh and blood of the Christ or even, OMG OMG, doesn’t change at all, and merely symbolises the flesh and blood of the Christ. Don’t know about you, but to me, this is very alien thinking. Who in the name of all that creepeth upon the earth gives a flying flootle about it? Well, we don’t now, but by Christ, they did then. The afterlife loomed larger than their actual life, it was really real to them, and what you thought/believed was going to make a difference to how it panned out for you, and God was not the merciful type in to their minds at all, quite the reverse, he was the roasting, crimping and carving and the boiling of babies kind. That was God, Satan was worse. It was a real Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds outlook. It was Ingmar Bergman on a bad day. Now Wolf Hall shows that sensible people could negotiate their way around all this bad craziness, but it was like stepping around the Nazis in 1942, it took nerve and a lot of tact and intelligence. You could find yourself in a sticky situation quite rapidly, after one quick phone call to the Inquisition and a swift tightening of Jennifer’s daughter or the horrible Pear of Anguish. As an atheist, I just can’t for the life of me understand why people couldn’t say yeah, okay, no prob, Pope Clement IV is a cool ruler, yeah, let me have three of them indulgences, hey, 25 ducats, it’s a bargain, see you round bro. But they were all like ARRGH EVERYTHING MATTERS MY ETERNAL SOUL WILL FRY FOR A GAZILLION YEARS BECAUSE I HICCUPPED AT MASS AND PART OF JESUS WENT UP MY NOSE OH NO NOW I HAVE TO BURN TWENTY HERETICS BEFORE GOD WILL SMILE AT ME AGAIN.
Ugh No 3. The blurb on the back of this book says “it is clear, crisp, epigrammatic and memorable… it is great fun to read.”
Well, this is from p 68-9 :
By 1536 Calvin and Melancthon had achieved the Wittenberg Concord, reconciling the south German cities and Saxony. Even Luther did not absolutely reject it, although Swiss cities did and worked their way towards the Consensus Tigurinus of 1549, essentially a Zurich-Geneva axis. Bucer’s own position, close to Calvin’s, was a version of Zwinglianism, and when, after the Schmalkaldic War, Strassburg had a Lutheran straightjacket imposed upon it he went into exile in England
I didn’t really think that was much fun to read. Who is this damned book for ? Not the student of the period, who already has a nine volume history of the Reformation and is eagerly devouring volume 7 as we speak; so must be the general reader (me! Me!) but look, does a general reader really want this kind of thing? Opening lines of chapter 9 :
Cuius regio, eius religio. The pithy phrase was coined in the early seventeenth century to convey the gist of the Religious peace of Augsburg.
To the rack with you Mr Collinson ! And may God have mercy on his prose.