This issue of misinterpretation is something that Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam ran into when he published Praise of Folly, a satirical essay that, in the voice of Folly herself (positioned here as a sort of ur-goddess of happiness and frivolity), lays out the argument that all that is good and right in the world is, at its most basic level, due to foolishness and not anything resembling seriousness. This is then followed by a point-by-point explanation of how this relates to every field from commoners all the way up to kings, then moves on to the field of theology and works up that hierarchy as well, from churchgoers all the way to the Pope.
The argument is perhaps less important in this case than the effects of making that argument. The book is in three parts, essentially; before and after the central essay, there are two letters. The first, before the essay itself begins, was written by Erasmus to his friend Thomas More (author of Utopia), explaining that the Praise of Folly is intended as a tribute of sorts, based on some ideas that came to Erasmus after a visit with More, and asking him to claim some credit and defend the work from criticism (a request that More gladly accepted). The second, written to Maarten van Dorp, one of Erasmus's colleagues who wrote to advise Erasmus of the criticisms that were beginning to appear in relation to Folly, is kind of the 16th-century version of a comedian having to explain the joke.
It's hard to say exactly what those who criticized Folly at the time thought they were doing; Erasmus goes out of his way through the entire piece to avoid naming anyone or anything specifically (other than himself), simply saying 'these are the qualities of a bad member of this group,' so that anyone who raised criticisms on the basis of themselves being attacked, well... it would seem that they're drawing attention to themselves. The letter to van Dorp spells this out, and I have to admit that I didn't even notice that the only individual specifically called out was, well... Erasmus himself.
The essay itself is surprisingly readable, given the philosophical and theological subject matter. It helps somewhat that in this particular edition, Penguin went with footnotes rather than endnotes, so that any context that needs to be provided is available right there on the same page, rather than requiring you to flip back and forth to the back of the book. Most of the context is in the form of explaining references to classical literature; Erasmus's central argument when it comes to what makes a bad theologist is that not knowing how to read scripture in the original languages leads to a fundamental lack of understanding of what was meant; he himself wrote in Latin in this work, but Greek and Hebrew are peppered throughout, and even in the English translation I read, some of both were still in place. He knows the audience he's writing for, and it just adds to his argument.
Yes, I know I'm saying that as someone who only has a functional ability to read English and its derivatives.
I don't know how likely I am to return to Erasmus for his other works; this particular volume's nature as a satire is unique in his bibliography, with his other works largely being serious theology, in many cases critiquing the Church in ways that are similar but separate from what would appear when Martin Luther published his own critiques in 1517. As much as that might interest me, I'm far from familiar enough with the nature of religion in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance to be able to get a proper understanding of what's on display there. That said, this was a fun read, and a good wrap-up to the first leg on my little marathon here.
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