|
|
|
Lesson 26--WORK IN
PROGRESS! |
|
WORLD LIT
HOME
1. Clay & Skin
2. Gilgamesh
3. Acts of God
4. Genesis
CLASSICAL WEST
5. Odysseus
6. Men like
Animals
7. Socrates
8. Alexander
9. Virgil
10. Paul
CLASSICAL
EAST
11. Krishna
12. Rama
13. Kalidasa
14. Buddha
15. Confucius
16. Lao Tse
WORLD
RECOVERY
17. Quran
18. Beowulf
19. Genji
20. Survival Itself
POST DARK
AGE
21. Dante 1
22. Dante 2
23.
Dante 3
24.
Chaucer
25. Journey to the West
26. New World
27. Indians
28. Don Quixote
|
Old cultures in a new world |
|
Read from the
Longman Anthology of World
Literature, the "perspectives" section "The Conquest and its
aftermath" (Damrosch C811-874).
Then skim the page below and journal for an hour.
Finally, if you are enrolled in the course, go to the
Angel web site, take the quiz and submit your journal
to Dr. G
What about the heroic Christians of the sixteenth century who explored
the New World--Columbus, Las Casas, Diaz and others. Were the Old World
cultures useful or problematic in the New World?
CHRISTIAN ACTING
In Judaism and Islam the divine spirit is present only in the words of prophets,
so these
religions tend to express themselves in purely verbal form, as sacred words, codes of commandments, laws
and rules that tell
the cult members what to think and do. In Christianity,
there are also verbal codes but, because of the incarnation, because of the belief that the spirit is embodied in human form,
Christianity tends to express itself in images or models that show the cult way of life.
Christian culture transmits itself by imitation of acts.
Christians copy the life of Jesus, Paul and other "followers" who previously
have imitated what (it is believed) Jesus did or would do in the same
circumstances. The models exist in art, beginning in the literary art of
the New Testament itself, and flowering in all of the arts of the
European Middle Ages.

right: a mystery play at York Cathedral
(England) opens with God creating the universe. Chaucer's Absalon
notwithstanding, Medieval Biblical drama
provided ordinary Christians general acting models based on scripture.
Medieval Christians copied the Bible not only in their monastic libraries, and not only in
their sculpture, painting, and drama, but in
their self-consciousness. The New Testament came true in Christian culture, as if by
magic, with real life Pauls and gospel-Jesuses. Consider, for example, Aurelius Augustinus
(354-430 AD) and
John d'
Bernardone (cir. 1181-1223 AD), better known
as saints Augustine of Hippo and
Francis of
Assisi.
-
Augustine imitated Paul as a
"born again" religious convert and theological writer who defended
his church by defining correct spiritual beliefs and denouncing paganisms and
heresies;
-
Francis imitated gospel-Jesus as a humble preacher who gave up
his possessions, lived in poverty, attracted disciples to his austere way of
life, served lepers and social outcasts, and died by a kind of crucifixion, his
stigmata. The
reproduction of Jesus even carried on after Francis' death when some of his followers
declared that he had been the new messiah,
"the Second Coming of Christ," and when the church denounced these
followers as
heretics.
Augustine and Francis not only followed the primary New Testament models but
also became important secondary models in themselves, as saints and founders of
monastic orders. Their life stories, along with the stories of Jesus and Paul,
became part of an expanding literary and artistic canon that describes Christian life.
In practice,
Christian imitation can be very complex, as the imitator copies imitations of
imitations, layer upon layer removed from the primary models of the New
Testament. But as the models proliferate so do questions about their
authenticity or fidelity to original models. The
protestant reformation of the
early modern period was a movement engaged in this kind of critical review of
how Christians should act. The
Spanish Inquisition
and counter-reformation movements were orthodox Catholic responses which Roman Catholic
culture carried with it into the
New World.
|
|

above: Columbus' copy, with
Columbus' notes, of Marco Polo's Travels.
Literature mapped the world in the sailor's mind and provided him with
beliefs (sometimes incorrect ones!) as to where he was.
|
|
COLUMBUS
The Europeans who arrived in
the New World, beginning with
Christopher
Columbus (1451-1506), carried the mind set of both the Christian and
heroic cultures. Some like
the friar Bartolomé de las Casas
were more influenced by the Christian side than by the heroic one;
others like
the soldier
Bernal
Diaz del Castillo were more heroic than Christian.
Most attempted to fuse the seemingly
contradictory European cultures by imagining themselves as members of a "church militant"
that would spread spiritual salvation by force of arms, as Islam had
done in early medieval times.
This crusader spirit was running
especially high in 1492, when Columbus sailed on his first voyage,
because
"the Catholic Monarchs"
Ferdinand
and Isabella that year had driven the last remaining
Muslim Moors from the Iberian
peninsula with the conquest of
Grenada. They also had
expelled all Jews
from Spain, excepting only those who converted to Catholicism. The
soverigns'
announced goal was no less than the recovery of the Holy Land from Muslim
occupiers and the
conversion of all people everywhere on the globe. Their initiative
eventually succeeded to the extent that
Latin America
became Catholic.
It is also to them that the
Spanish
Inquisition is attributed.
Columbus played into the
plans for world domination by promising Ferdinand and Isabella to sail west to China where,
according to
Marco Polo (who
wrote 200
years earlier), the
Great Khan was
waiting to receive Christian missionaries. In fact,
the Khans had lost China in 1368, but because European contact with
China had been lost there had been no update to Marco
Polo's book.
It was from ancient and medieval readings that Columbus
formulated a "small world" theory, a belief that the ocean was
small enough so that the range-limited ships of the day might have the
capability to
traverse the ocean directly from east to west. Based on other ancient and medieval
texts, most scholars of Columbus' time very properly disagreed with the
small world theory,
but Ferdinand and Isabella eventually were persuaded to invest in the
mission.
Faithfully believed, the old books were tenacious
in their hold on European brains. Until the seventeenth century
Enlightenment, empirical data was forced to fit into the frameworks
established by the texts, and so it was that Columbus kept his faith in the small world
despite the experience he gained on his famous voyages. His summarizing letters and ship logs
reveal his unshaken convictions that Cuba was Japan, that the central American coast was the East Asian
shore, that Eden was in the Caribbean, and that King Solomon's gold had come from
central America. As we all do, the great explorer attempted to
synthesize his reading with his experience, but the synthesis came out
like a fantasy of Don
Quixote, not like a scientific solution.
Columbus did make
discoveries about Spanish politics, however. His emotional letter of 7 July 1503 to
Ferdinand and Isabella (Damrosch C815-821) reflects his disgust with
them and their corrupt courtiers. It was doubtful to him whether they
would pay his surviving sailors the wages that they had
earned from their long and dangerous work. Despite the extravagant
titles and powers that the crown had promised him prior to his voyages,
Columbus had been brushed off as soon after the first voyage as the king
and queen found more expedient ways to profit from the new territories.
After Columbus' first voyage,
Ferdinand and Isabella began to enlist the services of fortune-hunters to
exploit the new territories and return 20% in commissions to the crown. In the modified feudal system they
devised, known as the
encomienda, the
monarchs granted their favorites a specified number of Amerindians of whom they
were to take responsibility. The conquistadors were to
instruct these natives in the Spanish language and in the Catholic religion. In
exchange for these benefits, the natives were to pay tribute to their
benefactors in the form of enforced servitude, gold or agricultural products. A fifth
of the tribute was to be remitted to the crown.
Columbus was exasperated. He had
coveted the Indians' gold--Ferdinand and Isabella required it from him--but he supposed that he would trade for
it. He came into conflict with the encomienda holders who rejected his
authority,
and by the time of his third voyage they arranged to have him
arrested on fabricated charges, and he was deported back to Spain in chains. Columbus' bitter letter
to their majesties from his fourth voyage reflects this near-complete disillusion
that his project had turned to personal humiliation and courtier
profiteering.
Nonetheless, Columbus became
the first hero in the New World, earning fame at the cost of
personal sacrifice.
His astonishing achievements were due to the total seriousness with
which he adopted and maintained both the Christian and heroic
traditions. In the last letter to Ferdinand and Isabella he describes a "compassionate voice,"
at once Christian and heroic, that spoke to him in sleep
and awakened him from despair. It reminded him that God had given him fame,
no less than the fame of Moses or David, and that a "great undertaking"
still could lie ahead, despite old age (Damrosch C817). With these
inspiring words he arose from hopelessness, as if from the dead, and
somehow pushed himself to the next port that would allow him to land.
|
Left: the familiar posthumous
portrait of Columbus by Florentine artist Ridolfo Ghirlandaio, cir
1520, Museum of the Sea and Navigation, Genoa.
Left: much less known posthumous
portrait of Columbus by Alejo Fernandez, cir 1531-1536, in
Casa de Contratación
Seville. Columbus is one
of the most sculpted and painted figures in history, but we don't know
what he looked like.
|
|
 |
left:
recreation of one of the tiny caravels used on Columbus' expeditions.
The ship was designed as a Mediterranean shore-hugger, not an
ocean-crosser. Columbus was alone in the belief that such vessels could
directly cross the great ocean.
|
|
LAS CASAS
Columbus was fortunate to have a disciple who tried to fix the encomienda mess. That
follower was a
literary man of the first order,
Bartolomé de las Casas
(1484-1576).
Inspired by Columbus' voyages in which his father and uncles
had participated,
Las Casas moved to Hispaniola at age 18 in 1502, and he became for a
time an encomienda holder. He underwent a conversion in middle age,
after he witnessed the Spanish
genocide of the native peoples of Cuba, and he heard a
Dominican preacher's denunciation of Spanish oppression and inhumane treatment of innocent natives.

Las Casas resolved the conflict between heroic and Christian cultures by
converting from one to the other. He gave up his conquistador life
(freeing his Indian servants), became a member of the
Dominican order, and in prolific writings and public advocacy called for
the Christian golden rule to be applied in all dealings with Native
Americans. He described the heroic "conquest" of the New World by Spanish
conquistadors as nothing more than a hoax used to glorify exploitation,
torture, enslavement and genocide. Because of these writings, Las Casas today is regarded as the
father of the black
legend of the cruel, intolerant, greedy and fanatical excesses of
Spanish colonialism.
He is also regarded as a founding father of the international
human
rights movement. The powers of literature to
affect culture continued into the early modern period, as Las Casas'
example shows.
Although Las Casas may seem modern in
comparison to his contemporaries, he is a kindred spirit to
Jeremiah and the Hebrew prophets of old. He did not pretend to speak for
the Lord in the old prophetic way, but he adopted a prophetic
view that God had punished the wickedness of the Spanish people with a
dark age disaster culminating in the Moor's conquest of Spain in 711 CE,
and divine
punishment seemed to be in progress again as evidenced by recent triumphs of
Muslin Turks over Christian forces. Las Casas witnessed Spanish behavior
in the New World so abominable, so far from the Christian ethic of love
of neighbor, that he was sure God would prepare another great catastrophe for
Spain unless it changed its ways. The salvation of the Spanish people from the wrath
of God would depend on their treatment of their indigenous brothers and
sisters of the New
World.

Above: human sacrifice and cannibalism practiced by the Carib people and
Aztecs resulted in the sudden downfall in their cultures as neighboring victim
tribes were quick to side with Columbus, Cortes and other European invaders who promised to end
these barbaric terrors.
|
Although Longman is weak in its
representation of Las Casas (see Damrosch C859-864), your anthology came
packaged with the Penguin Classics edition of Las Casas' important work,
A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies. I strongly recommend
that book to all students.
Left: Las Casas portrayed by
Constantino Brumidi (1876) in the US Capitol Building, Senate Wing,
Washington DC.
The practice of human sacrifice
in pre-Columbian cultures of Mexico and the Caribbean seems to have been
designed not only as a form of political terrorism but to ritualize
cannibal meals.
Unlike Eurasia, in the central Americas few sources of animal protein
were available. The Spanish introduced cattle and hogs. In exchange
Europeans received corn and potatos.
|
|
BERNAL DIAZ
The Indian holocaust described by Las Casas in
A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies was denied
repeatedly by conquistadors and their apologists. Critics of Las Casas
included
Bernal
Diaz del Castillo who claimed to be present at
Cholula when forces of
Hernan Cortes
slaughtered most of the men of the village; Diaz accuses Las Casas of
contradicting the facts about Cholula, where Cortes and his men had been
trapped by allies of Monteczuma who were going to massacre, sacrifice
and eat their Spaniard guests. Was Cortes' action a pre-meditated effort
to instill fear in the Aztecs waiting for him at Tenochtitlan? Or was
it, as Diaz describes and as Cortes testified under questioning,
self-defense against native treachery?
Below: the first family of
Mexico: Cortes,
La Malinche
("the captain's woman"), and their son.
"Monumento al Mestizaje"
by Julián Martínez y M. Maldonado (1982). Is Bernal Diaz story a Spanish
foundation myth for Mexico? In Mexico these days it is a derogatory name
to call someone is a “malinchista,” one who conspires with outsiders,
but not everyone considers La Malinche a traitor. Some view her as a
heroine, helping spread the word of Christianity. For others, she was a
woman in love, who had no choice but to follow her heart and protect her
beloved Cortés. Malinche is also viewed as the first mother of the
Mestizo race.
|
|
 |
|
The following
commentary is from Damrosch
Teacher's Guide
to the Longman Anthology
Díaz
. . . is a master of colorful description and
fast-paced narration. Students can look at the preface to his
True History
(Vol. C, p. 822) to see how
Bernal Díaz slyly advertises his account, at once insisting that he is “no
Latin scholar” and highlighting “what a wonderful story it is” that he has to tell. His
preface uses a strategy common among participants in the “vernacular revolution”
described in Volume C: he may lack the polish and elegance of Latin
scholarship and its fund of classical references, but his account gains in immediacy and truth
value, as he is “a fair eye witness,” blind though he now is in old age.
Students should find his account compulsively readable,
both for the drama of the events it describes and for the salty depictions
of the brilliant but manipulative Cortés and the noble but doomed Montezuma. They can also
look at the literary and rhetorical means by which the authors construct
their narratives and make sense of these unprecedented events. Bernal Díaz
and his fellow soldiers think they’re living in scenes out of the knightly
romance of Amadis of Gaul (pp. 827 –828), a prime role model for Cervantes’s Don
Quixote as well (Vol. C, p. 365–366). Bernal Díaz brings to life the wealth and
splendor of the teeming Aztec capital and its mixture of beauty and horror, with its
elaborate aviaries side by side with temple pyramids thick with the blood of sacrificial
victims.
Even as he conveys the utter strangeness of this foreign
culture, Bernal Díaz analyzes the Aztecs’ personalities and actions shrewdly
and with remarkable sympathy, showing respect and loyalty to Doña Maria and Montezuma
in particular. He is actually more ambivalent toward his leader,
Cortés, whose vanity and greed are recurrent themes in the account and whose insistence
on confronting Montezuma over his “idols” creates problems for the
Spaniards from the very start. Students may note how, without directly criticizing
Cortés for his rashness, Bernal Díaz shows their own chaplain, Bartolomé de Olmedo,
counseling caution and restraint—advice that Cortés promptly ignores
(pp. 831–832).
|
|
|
Hernando Ruiz de Alarcón
Hernando Ruiz de Alarcón’s
Treatise on the
Superstitions of the Natives of this New Spain
shows some of the fruits of the
Spanish missionaries’ work, a century later. The natives have accepted the Christian faith,
but they have blended in many elements of their traditional beliefs and
practices. Appointed as an ecclesiastical judge to seek out and punish “heretical” mixtures of
belief, Ruiz de Alarcón recorded many of the incantations used by native
priests, healers, and common people in their daily lives.
You can ask students to consider just how Ruiz de
Alarcón’s beliefs actually differ from those of his parishioners. He
seems to accept that native sorcerers can really change themselves into
animal form, for example, and their gods (or devils) do have the power
to cause sickness and to heal. Indeed, he is particularly unsettled by
the parallels he finds between native healing practices and the
sacrament of baptism (p. 871). Are the natives hiding their pagan beliefs behind a veneer of Christianity?
RESONANCE
Julio Cortázar’s “Axolotl,” the Resonance selection
after Ruiz de Alarcón’s text, uses a tale of human-animal transformation to suggest
that ancient native culture persists in the midst of modernity. Even as the
narrator resists falling into “mythology” (rejecting it as “easy, almost obvious,” p.
858), he evokes Aztec transformations in a way that echoes the
Metamorphoses
of Ovid and of Kafka, finding “a mysterious humanity” despite the radical
difference of the axolotl (pronounced “AH-sha-lot’l”). The aquarium guard suggests that the
narrator
is trying to eat the axolotl alive with his eyes (p. 858), but then the
axolotl’s intense, lidless gaze consumes him instead. In the story’s brilliant, metafictional conclusion, the narrator is now fully detached from his authorial self,
which stays away from the aquarium, writing a story about axolotls that he only
thinks he’s making up.
|
For new generations in New
Spain beyond Cortes the question became: are you Spanish or are you
Mexican? Literature was used by New World individuals to prove that they
were Spanish, despite their birth overseas.
Left:
Hernando's brother
Juan,
the famous playwright, also sought to prove his loyalty to old world
culture--both were Mexican born. Juan composed plays that found
acceptance by audiences in Madrid, before becoming a judge on the royal
court that heard appeals cases from the New World. |
|
Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
In a mysterious document written a year before her
death, [Sor Juana] forswore all of her intellectual work and agreed
never to write again, repenting her actions of years past. After her
death from plague in 1695, Mexico City’s powerful Archbishop, who had
opposed her while she lived, confiscated the books and manuscripts that
remained in her cell (a fairly comfortable and spacious library) and
fought to purge her name from memory. But it was too late. Her
Obras
had already been published in
Madrid, and she has gone on to claim a place as one of Latin
America’s most distinguished writers.
Thanks to the carefully annotated edition of
her Response
by Electra Arenal with Amanda Powell (Sor
Juana Inés de la Cruz: Respuesta and Selection of Poems,
1994) and a detailed, engaging biography by Octavio Paz, available in
translation (Sor
Juana: or, The Traps of Faith,
1988), she has in recent years
become much better known among English speakers as well.
In what space among what she called her “mudos
libros”—her silent
books—could a
criolla
and a woman participate? The
criollas,
children of Spanish fathers and indigenous mothers, inherited two cultures instead of one. Even if
in the eighteenth century they would attempt to define a uniquely Latin American
culture independent of their colonizer, they were always dependent on the language, religion, and political order of the Spaniards—a double legacy that
has defined and problematized Latin America to this day.
In her poems, Sor Juana both
interrogates and dismisses the conventions of the
Spanish baroque that had been
practiced by Lope de Vega and
Garcilaso de la Vega. Once those conventions
are dismissed (as in her poem to her portrait), what, exactly, is left?
Is
it simply “nada” or is it
something else, such as the poem itself that has dared to undo the
conventions of a poetic practice that made the sonnet a vehicle for the
commemoration of female beauty?
Response to “Sor Filotea,”
to which you will surely want to
refer from earlier in Volume C (p. 123), is one of the most eloquent defenses
of women’s learning ever written, as it moves back and forth between what might
be called Sor Juana’s topos of humility—her protestations that she has
no right to write—and her convictions in her vast, even unique,
abilities . . . She was treading on dangerous ground in
late-seventeenth century Mexico, when the Inquisition was still in full swing .
. .
Not all of the
Response
is represented in the
Anthology,
but it might be helpful to point out that it corresponds to a circular pattern:
Sor Juana starts out protesting the necessity of her remaining silent, then
she moves into an (ironic?) discussion of her unworthiness. From here, she talks
about how, like
Saint Teresa, she is compelled to write by her superiors. Then
in one of the longest sections, she turns to the persecutions she has faced
simply because she excels and because she has been granted the gift of “letters.”
We return to her compulsion to study, which is beyond her “arbitrio”
or will to control, to a long section on her putative unworth, and then arrive at the close,
which finds her protesting once more that she will remain silent and
never write again.
Throughout she is anxious to tie her extensive learning
to sacred things, as though “ el
deseo de saber”
(desire to know), as she so frequently calls it, always had as its true endpoint God alone. And it is God who
has given her both her reason and “la
luz de entendimiento.”
To deny that light of understanding and the use of her reason is to deny nothing less than God
himself. Similarly, to deny women and poets their place is to deny a long biblical
and patristic tradition clearly sanctioned by God and his representatives on
earth, such as Jerome and Jesus, who had women as their trusted companions.
By stressing continuously her fight against her cursed
“desire to know” and the suffering that she endures as a result of that
useless struggle, Sor Juana engaged in an artful ploy; the exercise of her intellect is not
the result of her own agency, but the product of God-given compulsions and gifts. At
the same time, the mind that is the troubled beneficiary of those gifts is
essentially nongendered: “is not my mind, such as it is, as free as Viera’s [the preacher
whose sermon she had criticized]: consider their common origin”—that is, in God. Using the
Bible and Catholic tradition
against
her accuser, she shows how
adroit she is at playing devil’s advocate.
This adroitness is especially apparent in the “Loa,”
which like the sonnets questions conventions—the conventional beliefs, in this
instance, that the mainland had about the “other” that was New Spain. By the late
seventeenth century, the great efforts at conversion were over, and Sor
Juana’s “Loa,” which prefaced her longer one-act play,
The Divine Narcissus,
was meant to be performed not in Mexico but in Spain, as though to rehearse for her
Spanish counterparts the historical moment of the conquest.
Sor Juana’s history is a
revisionary one, in several ways. For one thing, while it clearly emphasizes the
superiority of Christianity to the religion of the “Occident,” it also points out the
meaningful similarities between the two systems. Even though the bloody sacrifices
referred to by Music at the beginning are no more, Christ’s death is a sacrifice
too, and arguably Sor Juana gives to the Aztec America in Scene 1 lines that could
be true of the Christian dispensation: “We eat his body, drink his blood, / and
by this sacred meal are freed / and cleansed from all that is profane”
(1.65–67). This could argue for the universality of Christianity, suggesting that it was
already present among the natives in some primitive form. But the fact that the play ends
with a paean to the god of the seeds and that the formerly stern Zeal exits
with the others, “bailando
y cantando”—dancing
and singing—shows how indigenous techniques of celebration and ritual are incorporated into the Christians’
eucharistic celebration rather than completely “purged” (and in other works, Sor Juana wrote
in the native language of Nahuatl).
It is worth noting that the “Loa” calls itself an
allegory. The play it prefaced,
The Divine Narcissus,
is also allegorical, blending pagan with Christian symbolism: Narcissus, traditionally seen as foolishly absorbed with
his own beauty, becomes a Christ in love with himself—a self equivalent to human
nature. Like allegory, the “Loa” is syncretic rather than intent on obliterating a
pagan system of belief. It reveals the incongruity between the desire to make two cultures
one, and the bloodshed represented by Zelo that claimed so many lives. We see
too a muted cry of rebellion against Spanish military practices such as the use of
“centaurs” (probably horses) and “molten balls of burning lead,” and America
refers to the pompous Zeal as the true “bárbaro”
or barbarian among the group. Finally, take careful note of the genders of the allegorical figures in the play:
it is the female Religion who preaches the meaning of the “true word,” effectively
silencing Zeal, and Religion too who justifies bringing the play to Spain. In perhaps
a curious allusion to Sor Juana herself, America steps forward at the play’s end
to beg forgiveness of Spain’s poets for
her
“crude attempt” to describe the
“mystery” of Christianity with her awkward lines (p. 873 in the
Anthology)—yet
another veiled reference to the Mexican nun’s uneasy yet defiant relationship to the
European traditions that shaped her.
|
left: Sor
Juana portrait, Inter-cultural and inter-racial exchange lead to
distinctively modern questions of identity
|
|

Lesson
Summary: Influences of ancient
Eurasian literature carry over to the New World in the heroic and
Christian cultures of the European explorers, missionaries, soldiers,
monks and nuns. As they struggled among themselves to define the
European culture that should be transplanted to the New World, their
cultures also intermingled with native American ones which they failed
to obliterate completely.
Suggested journal topics
and optional readings
1.
Christian and heroic cultures: how are these cultures still
active (if at all) in the modern world? How are they reconciled?
How are
the Christian ideals the same or different for the authors and
personalities introduced in this lesson: Columbus, Las Casas, Diaz,
Cortes,
Hernando Ruiz de Alarcón, Sor Juana?
2. European and native American cultures:
how are they reconciled? What problems or opportunities are presented
for children of mixed descent?
3. Epidemiology of contact: how accurate are the reports of Las
Casas and Diaz? Both claim to be eye witness accounts, and there is no reason to
doubt that either author experienced first-hand some of the events that they
write about. Yet their points of view are limited, as most of the information
they gathered was anecdotal or hearsay.
In
particular they had no scientific understanding of the Amerindian
collapse. Today it is generally recognized that the pre-Columbian
Amerindians had no significant resistance to the diseases of Eurasia and
Africa, diseases to which Eurasians and Africans had been developing
immunities for thousands of years. Modern estimates put the
Amerindian population level at about 100 million in 1492, and at
one-tenth of that number only 75 years later. In central Mexico, the
population shrank from about 30 million at the time of Cortes invasion
to about 3 million in 1568, and it ebbed further to a low of about 1.6
million by 1620.
Wars,
punitive massacres and forced labor certainly were responsible for
Amerindian deaths, but a decimation of 90% is not out of line with the
mortality to be expected from epidemics. See Plagues and Peoples,
William McNeill (Anchor 1998), 208-241. Smallpox has been traced
from Hispaniola in 1518 to Mexico in 1520 where it spread southward
through Central America to the Incas in Peru by 1525 or 1526. The
"conquest" of these areas by a handful of European soldiers may have
been accomplished primarily by disease, and secondarily by the
superstitious assumption of divine causes which made the Spaniards
into God's chosen race. The general adoption of Christianity in Latin
America may have resulted from the relative survival rates of Christians
and non-Christians.
4. Early Modern versus Bronze Age civilizations:
how did it happen that while western Europe had entered a state
of modernity, pre-Columbian Americans were living a technological level
last seen in Europe in the late stone age or early Bronze Age? Does
geography explain it? Were there disadvantages to human beings situated in the
Americas compared with Eurasia? Or does culture explain it? Did New
World cultures prohibit or retard the technological advancement necessary to
compete against Eurasians?
Does catastrophism suggest at least a partial answer to this problem?
Many scientists now argue that the
last Ice Age
abruptly ended in about 10,000 BCE with a bombardment of North America
by space debris, the so-called "Clovis Comet" or the
Younger Dryas impact event, which resulted in the destruction of
Clovis civilization
and
extinction of almost all North American megafauna. Such events
may have pushed the social organization and technological development of
people in the New World back to square one without necessarily
causing so great disruption everywhere in Eurasia.
5. Webs of note:
Columbus
Monuments pages
Conquistadors from PBS with Michael Wood
Hernando Cortes on
the web
Las Casas excerpts from
Apologetic History of the Indies.
Sor
Juana Cambridge U lecture
Sor Juana Project at
Dartmouth College
6.
Recommended reading for Columbus: Columbus' letters, his
biography by his sons Hernando Colon, his edited log book and other
sources are skillfully assembled in The Four Voyages of Christopher
Columbus, ed. J. M. Cohen. New York: Penguin 1969.
(from Damrosch) Samuel Eliot Morison’s
biography (1942) is still the best and most detailed life of the captain, while
Margarita Zamora’s
Reading Columbus
(1993) is a good account of the
letters and their troubled contexts. You may also wish to have a look at Columbus’s log, edited
by Oliver Dunn and James E. Kelley as
The Diario of Christopher
Columbus’s First Voyage to America, 1492–93
(1989) and full of fascinating details. Finally, Zvi Dor-Ner’s
Columbus and the Age of Discovery
(1991) is a masterful, highly
entertaining account of the details of the voyages themselves, providing rich
background on Columbus’s unsavory crewmates, the flora and fauna of the
late-fifteenth-century Caribbean, and the value of a Spanish
marivedi.
7. Saint
Augustine's conversion was text based, demonstrating the
power of literature; it occurred when the young man heard a
child-like voice singing tolle, lege ("take up and read")
I cast myself down I know not how, under a
certain fig-tree, giving full vent to my tears; and
the floods of my eyes gushed out an acceptable
sacrifice to You, O Lord. And, not quite in these
words, but to this purpose, I spoke at length to You
and said, Lord, how long? how long, Lord, will You
be angry for ever? Remember not my past sins. I felt
that I was held by them, so I sent up these
sorrowful words: How long, how long, tomorrow, and
tomorrow? Why not now? why is this hour not the end
of my uncleanness?
So was I speaking and weeping in the most bitter
contrition of my heart, when suddenly I heard from a
neighboring house a voice, as of boy or girl, I know
not, chanting, and oft repeating, "Take up and read;
Take up and read. " Instantly, my face altered, I
began to think most intently whether children sing
such words as these in any kind of play, But I could
not ever to have heard the like. So holding back the
flood of my tears, I arose. I interpreted the voice
to be no other than a command from God to open the
book, and read the first chapter I should find. For
I had heard of Antony, that coming into church
during the reading of the Gospel, he received the
instruction, as if what was being read was spoken to
him: Go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the
poor, and thou shall have treasure in heaven, and
come and follow me: and by such oracle he was
immediately converted unto You. Eagerly then I
returned to the place where . . . I had laid the
volume of the Apostle [St Paul's epistles] when I
arose thence. I seized, opened, and in silence read
that section on which my eyes first fell: "Not in
rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and
wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on
the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for
the flesh, in concupiscence" [from Paul's Epistle to
the Romans]. No further did I read; nor did I need
to read for instantly at the end of this sentence,
by a light as it were of serenity infused into my
heart, all the darkness of doubt vanished away.
The Confessions of Saint Augustine, Book
XIII, Paragraphs 28 and 29.
Instructor:
gutchess@englishare.net
Copyright ©
2009
|
|
| |