This book is based on a series of episodes from village or small town life in the duchy of WÜrttemberg in southwest Germany between 1580 and 1800, in which state authorities conducted a special investigation into local events. The cases and characters involved include peasants' refusal to celebrate church rituals; a self-proclaimed prophet who encountered an angel in his vineyard; a thirteen-year-old-witch; a paranoid pastor; a murder; and live burial of a village bull.
This book explores the enormous trials of common people in Europe's transitions to the modern age. He shows that between the 1300s and 1600s, Europe was a continent stalked by starvation, subject to all the social pressures of serious natural scarcity. The population peaked and fell twice, first with the Black Death, then in the famines and plagues of the Little Ice Age. By the early 1300s, Europe’s population had risen past 80 million, and given the non-diversified nature of the economy, this squeezed resources in many villages close to the limits. General mal-nourishment rendered the population ripe for a plague so serious that it took 250 years for the population to recover. Then, as the Little Ice Age set in before 1600, the death rate climbed again to match or surpass the birth rate. This time, famine was more prominent than plague. The methods of farming had improved since the 1300s, and Europe could have supported more people, but the climate undercut the farmers. The growing seasons shrank with late and early frosts, and the crops sometimes failed for several years running. According to Sabean, all known records of wage and income scales for Western Europe in the 1500s show a dramatic fall, accompanied by “great waves of mortality.” The people of northern Europe from Muscovy to Scotland were the worst afflicted. In Scandinavia some regional famines reached a mortality rate of 50%.
As usual, clear and present scarcity motivated the most powerful people to consolidate control over resources. Where the expansion of farmlands approached natural limits, leaving only isolated patches of forest, the pressure for economic expansion turned inward as the most powerful local men tried to take the communal lands. Land ownership grew more centralized, while the poorer families had to subdivide tiny plots. The pressure of scarcity worked its logic, not only between peasants and landlords, but also within peasant communities. Competition among farming tenants increased, raising the temperature of suspicion and hostility. Women who owned land seemed to prevent men from having enough.
In this crisis, the surviving property rights of women tended to collapse. A series of reforms in several countries rendered women as legal minors, subject to their husbands or fathers. In some regions, as in much of Germany, women’s legal rights to property remained. But even here, the feeling grew that it was anti-social of females to insist on those rights. Widows who tried to hold their land, or who lost it and grew hostile, were commonly suspected as malicious witches. By no accident, the accusers and prosecutors of witches were commonly paid with the property of the convicted.
For all these reasons and others, women across Europe were rendered economic dependents in an age of hunger. Where food was scarce, sons got more to eat than daughters. Single women, especially older women past child-bearing age, were commonly the first to starve. In former times, the older women would have been “clan mothers.” To cut them off from property and support would have been a sacrilege to most Old Europeans—like starving one’s parents would be to a Chinese Confucianist. To justify their actions, the winners in the time of scarcity needed a new code of ethics, more supportive of economic victors.
I first read this in graduate school. Twenty years later, I still have difficulty understanding Sabean's interpretations based on the six incidents he explores. Sabean claims to study German village culture ca. 1580 - 1800 through six investigations that took place in the Duchy of Wurttemberg. The six incidents are fascinating. But then Sabean offers an interpretation of peasant society by reading between the lines. It is this analysis that baffles me in each and every instance.
The six investigations should provide a lot of material to digest and explore. Villagers refusing to participate in communion; a self-proclaimed prophet; a 13-year-old witch; a persecuted / paranoid preacher; a possible murder; and the burial of a live bull. Any of these stories should provide insight into village life, even though they occurred centuries apart. Instead, Sabean tries to impose a complex theory of relationships (Herrschaft) onto everything; and then make sweeping claims without any evidence apart from his own authority, sometimes citing additional sources.
For example, the story about the persecuted / paranoid preacher focuses on the preacher's somewhat scandalous behavior outside of his clerical duties. The preacher was repeatedly transferred from village to village before being exiled from Wurttemberg. The preacher's antics are entertaining to modern readers. Readers can probably gleam insight into peasant society by what the preacher did and did not do. And yet, somehow, Sabean interpreted the story as having to do with popular (villagers) opposition to taxes and tithes. It is a strain to see class warfare in the story. There is next to nothing about taxes and tithes. And the shame of it is, there was a Peasants' Revolt or War in Germany with the leading cause being taxes and tithes. And yet, Sabean only mentions the revolt in passing - in another chapter.
The story of Pastor Bregenzer was entertaining. The possible murder of Pastor Breuninger was full of mystery. Breuninger's death was investigated at least twice, if not more often. Sabean's academic writing style makes it very difficult to determine simply how many times the death was investigated. The pastor was found in a shallow ditch. The village came out to inspect the dead. No one would help the grieving widow. A town bully mocked the deceased. Authorities quickly buried the body despite evidence of foul play. It was quickly rumored that the town bully and his brother killed the pastor. As a possible motive, the pastor withheld communion from one of the brothers due to a legal dispute over inheritance. Sabean grasps this motive and expounds on inheritance in German society. Does the story demonstrate inheritance? No, it does not. It clearly is a simple attempt to determine if the poplar rumor of murder was founded in fact. It is clear that the village bullies were in league with the authorities, and a split among this group led to a second inquiry. So, the story does show village politics and possibly class warfare.
It can be difficult to make generalizations from isolated instances like those presented in the book. Medievalists in particular have to use these in order to make any kind of interpretation. Usually, these are described through the lens of religion, making interpretation even more subjective. It is unclear how much data Sabean has to work with. He implies that the inquiries were not substantial, but he does not clarify. Readers may assume the entry from the 1580s on villagers not taking the communion is less substantial than the seemingly detailed inquiry into the burial of a live animal ca. 1800. But readers are left clueless as to the amount of material Sabean has regarding each instance.
The influence of Herrschaft was one of the most difficult to understand. Sabean devotes a substantial introductory chapter to defining herrschaft....but this reader cannot define it except to say it is something like social order with rights, privileges, and responsibilities defined between people. This concept is thrust awkwardly onto the six stories. It looks like Sabean wanted to write about the six stories and an academic mentor told him he needed a theoretical framework juxtaposed on top of these stories. Except Sabean did not know how to do that, or resented that aspect of the writing. Then along comes another mentor who tells him to extrapolate generalizations from each story. The result is that the book presents six stories and follows them with a rambling analysis. All of this clunky matter is then twisted in the conclusion.
Just when I want to give Sabean the benefit of the doubt, I reached the conclusion. If readers have difficulty connecting taxes to the scandalous behavior of Pastor Bregenzer, then watch out for the conclusion! The conclusion rambles on about homosexuality, the Cathar Heretics, village spinsters, etc. One steady rule to academic writing is not to introduce new material (or interpretations) in the conclusion. Sabean does this in spades. This work does not compare favorably with other micro histories like Montaillou by Ladurie, The Cheese and the Worms by Ginzburg, or the Return of Martin Guerre by Davis.
Overall, I think Sabean accomplishes his stated mission to reveal aspects of village life through the six instances. He selected popular, entertaining investigations. I would recommend readers to peruse those parts of the book. But it is hard to separate the stories from the analysis. Readers who can slog through the introduction will likely slog through the interpretations as well, and even the conclusion. It is because of the academic prose, problematic interpretations, and sweeping generalizations (especially in the conclusion) that I warn readers away.
Several of the German social historical works I’ve read recently have had specific praise for Power in the Blood, by David Warren Sabean [nice middle name]. I read this book 15 years ago, but decided it was time to read it again. I am now much more attuned to the subtleties of micro-history, having studied it in my graduate courses where we learned how these historians have revolutionized history by reading beneath the historical documents they work with and inferring social context that is not overtly mentioned in the texts. Some examples of these authors I have enjoyed are Natalie Zemon Davis, The Return of Martin Guerre and Society, and Culture in Early Modern France; Carlo Ginzberg, The Cheese and the Worms; Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, A Midwife'€™s Tale; and Robert Darnton , The Great Cat Massacre.
Power in the Blood clearly fits in this niche of great works of micro-history. I have only re-read the first chapter where Sabean discusses a series of isolated people in sixteenth century Württemberg who refused to attend church or receive communion. His reading beneath their stated motives to understand the cultural and social impact of their actions within their village is fascinating and has changed my concept of community in Germany. This has been a great read so far. I can'€™t wait to get home and get back to it.