In 1300, the French region of Languedoc had been cowed under the authority of both Rome and France since Pope Innocent III 's Albigensian Crusade nearly a century earlier. That crusade almost wiped out the Cathars, a group of heretical Christians whose beliefs threatened the authority of the Catholic Church. But decades of harrowing repression-enforced by the ruthless Pope Boniface VIII , the Machiavellian French King Philip the Fair of France, and the pitiless grand inquisitor of Toulouse, Bernard Gui (the villain in The Name of the Rose)-had bred resentment. In the city of Carcassonne, anger at the abuses of the Inquisition reached a boiling point and a great orator and fearless rebel emerged to unite the resistance among Cathar and Catholic alike. The people rose up, led by the charismatic Franciscan friar Bernard Délicieux and for a time reclaimed control of their lives and communities. Having written the acclaimed chronicle of the Cathars The Perfect Heresy , Stephen O'Shea returns to the medieval world to chronicle a rare and remarkable story of personal courage and principle standing up to power, amidst the last vestiges of the endlessly fascinating Cathar world.
Praise for The Perfect Heresy :
"At once a cautionary tale about the corruption of temporal power...and an accounting of the power of faith ...It is also just a darn good read."-Baltimore Sun
"An accessible, readable history with lessons ...that were not learned by broad humanity until it saw 20th-century tyrants applying the goals and methods of the Inquisition on a universal scale."-New York Times
In 1300, the French region of Languedoc was enjoying along with the rest of medieval Europe a rare period of prosperity before being crushed by the Black Death and following the murderous Albigensian crusades of a century earlier.
To ensure the remaining embers of Catharism were firmly extinguished the inquisition constructed a vile repression as odious as any in history. Encouraging a culture where no person was safe from the condemnation of their neighbors, torture was a foundation, and the punishments were absurdly harsh. As an example one of the lightest punishments one could receive involved being forced to wear a yellow cross, carrying rods with one to all relevant church services so the priest could beat on in front of the rest of the congregation for periods up to twenty years. The role of the Dominicans in this sin is amply demonstrated. Enter stage right Bernard Delicieux, a Franciscan, and a sort of medieval civ l rights campaigner who fought the inquisition tooth and nail for twenty years before the inevitable.
The book itself is an admirable look through into the time. It also offers many nuggets, for example I never knew just how litigious a time the 1300s were, or just how brutal the mutual animosity between church, town and aristocracy was, or indeed how scary King James of Mallorca parental disapproval could be.
A little tedious in its detail in places, The Friar of Carcassonne nevertheless documents the life of a fascinating man, Bernard Délicieux. It's a story of the Inquisition in France, of dissatisfaction in the Languedoc at becoming part of France, of the Cathar heretics, and clashes with a surprising number of important people of the day -- inquisitors, kings, princes, popes.
The book doesn't fall into the trap of venerating Bernard Délicieux as a saint, but presents all facets of his character: his determination to fight injustice, and his lies in his own trial, his amazing oratory skills and his missteps.
I ended up going a bit glazed-eyed at all the dates and names -- dates were invented to give me a headache, I think -- but the details of what Bernard Délicieux was like made it a very worthwhile read.
Stephen O’Shea is best known for his thorough but accessible history of the Cathar heresy and its brutal repression in the Languedoc in the 12th century, titled “A Perfect Heresy”. I had enjoyed that book and was therefore interested in his second book about that region’s history. As always, Stephen O’Shea’s writing is engaging and lively. The subject of the book is Friar Bernard Delicieux, a Franciscan who battled incessantly against the excesses of the Inquisition. Or at least, that’s how it started, with him railing against the brutal and dishonest methods with which the Inquisition pursued anyone suspected of Cathar sympathies. He preached, he argued in clerical tribunals, he excited the populace to boo the Inquisitors. But soon a question of religious principles became mixed up with secular matters, more precisely the question of how the King of France, Philip The Fair, would exercise his authority in the Languedoc, far away from Paris. Bernard Delicieux met with the king of France several times, with varying success. The King could not afford to offend the Pope -who favored the Inquisition - too much and preferred to tread with caution. And after 1302, when he had suffered a humiliating defeat during a revolt in Flanders, he was in no mood to be threatened with popular insurrection in the South. And when it became known that Bernard Delicieux had approached a rival to take control of the Languedoc, his patience was certainly exhausted. Bernard Delicieux also got mixed up in the struggles between the Dominicans and the Franciscans, and even with warring fractions within the Franciscans. He was eventually captured and brought to trial by an Inquisitor and died in a prison in Carcassonne.
The book was enjoyable, but I preferred “A Perfect Heresy”. There is just not enough known about Bernard Delicieux’ life to fill a book, and at times it was just not clear what he was hoping to achieve. I had the impression that the author had become interested in this figure while researching “A Perfect Heresy” and had decided to squeeze another book out of his notes.
I enjoyed The Perfect Heresy a lot and so was keen to read O'Sheas follow-up.
Set 90 years later this book describes the inquisition in Languedoc led by the Dominicans to extinguish the heretical thoughts that still existed in the region and that was to become the Inquisition that terrorised Europe for the next five hundred years.
And then the fight back led by the Franciscan Friar Bernard, a historical character of whom not a lot is known. O'Shea does his best to flesh out the person from the limited amount that is recorded from the historical record and in a couple of chapters describing the rage de Carcassonne he succeeds but I struggled with this book in places. The beginning jumped back and forth a bit and might have been easier if it addressed things in chronological order. The latter bit of the book dealing with Friar Bernard's trial felt like an anticlimax and there were ten or fifteen years before his trial where he seemed to be at large that were just passed over. I would have liked to know what he did during this time and whether he knew he was on borrowed time.
Medieval history involving religious orders is not the most accessible of topics and I applaud O'Shea for writing another book that is both well researched and readable. It's not quite as gripping a tale as The Perfect Heresy but it's still impressive
The Friar of Carcassonne, the history of a Franciscan monk who fought the Dominican inquisition in 1300s south France was... okay. Stephen O'Shea has a clear command of the history of the period: the scene setting section, in which he talks to the changing medieval society, the tension between France and church, are compelling. And the actual tale he tells is... well, it's not that bad: a monk who sees the suffering caused by an unrelenting inquisition against the remnants of the Cathar, and does everything he can to break the sister-arm of his own faith. Which is all interesting, in theory.
In practice, once we get back the back story of the first few chapters and into the tale itself, it just didn't grip. I don't have an especially good explanation for it, but even with my often esoteric interest in history (especially as I'd just read about the Albigensian Crusade in the Great Big Book of Horrible Things), it didn't work its way in.
Also, Bernard Delicieux was a badass. Against the Pope, the King and the Grand Inquisitor, Delicieux fought for justice and to protect people who were being burned, tortured and eradicated. Even more amazing, he beat the evil trio several times through the power of his speeches.
O'Shea did a crazy amount of research for this book, and clearly has a passion and understanding for 14th Century politics in Europe. You get a real sense of what is was like on the ground in Cathar-land.
Steven O'Shea's Friar of Carcassonne is a well-written scholarly tome that examines the roots of The Inquisition, tracing its origins in large part to religious and secular outrage directed at Brother Bernard Delicieux, a well-intended Franciscan friar whose contentious rabble-rousing fanned the rage-filled embers of papal ire into a burning funereal pyre.
Although much of the firebrand Franciscan's life is lost to history, a remnant of Brother Bernard's existence remains written in the record of his own inquisition by Jacques Fournier, the portly Bishop of Pamiers who would later become Pope Benedict XII. Upon this mention, the author largely bases his account of the Friar's legacy: his quest to end Rome's unjust imprisonment, torture and inquisition of its perceived enemies, which -- in the end -- grew to include the titular Friar of Cascassonne.
O'Shea's Brother Bernard is a master of political manipulation, using his gift for oratory to influence the French king (Philip the Fair) and his emissaries, and incite near-riots among the people of Carcassonne; while defying bishops, inquisitors, and even the papacy, to which, hierarchically, he should have been subject. No one was beyond earshot of Brother Bernard's railing, and his diatribes were not always well-received. He offended secular and religious authorities alike.
He also at times showed a shocking lack of emotional intelligence, pushing his argument a bit too far and, consequently, alienating allies: A one-time protector, King Philip eventually abandoned the Franciscan friar in an effort to reconcile with Rome; and later found himself the target of treasonous intrigue, when Brother Bernard appealed to a lesser princeling of Majorca to help Carcassonne secede from France. (The plot failed before it began when the King of Majorca, upon hearing of his young son's involvement, beat the tar out of the princeling and sent Brother Bernard packing.)
Eventually, having lost the protection of the King, and at the mercy of the Pope, Brother Bernard found himself imprisoned among the heretics, charged on multiple counts -- initially, a list of 40 offences, that was later expanded to 64. Largely, these can be categorized into four areas: (1) obstructing the inquisition; (2) high treason; (3) adherence to heretical notions of poverty; and (4) the murder of Pope Boniface VIII through black magic. Eventually, he was found guilty on two: obstructing the inquisition and high treason (for having asked the Majorcan prince for help in seceding from France). Brother Bernard died, imprisoned in the same prison that he had fought to have emptied, in 1320.
Ironically, far from ending the brutality of Roman inquisition, Brother Bernard's uprising seems to have only seeded the field for the expansion of the practice into a full-blown terror recognized as The Inquisition of Jews and others branded as heretics.
A couple of items that I feel should be noted here:
(1) This is not an exhaustive, nor even a cursory, look into Catharism, a religious belief system that meshed together various Christian beliefs with gnostic views. It was considered heretical for good reason: Cathars believed in two gods -- one good and one evil. (In their belief system, the "good" god of the New Testament created spirit; and the evil god of the Old Testament created matter, all of which was evil.) Cathars believed that humans are angels, trapped in material bodies, destined to be reincarnated until they became perfect, by dying in a state of consolamentum, in which all sin was forgiven. (If they began to recover from near-death, they were smothered or otherwise killed by other Cathars to ensure that their souls would not have to be reincarnated again.) They did not believe in sacraments -- including marriage (because all spirit is genderless) -- or procreation. While calling themselves Christian, Cathars held beliefs are most certainly unbiblical; and the Roman Catholic Church, as sole dispensers (at the time) of Christian teaching, would certainly become enraged at the misappropriation of Christ, which they would see as endangering other believers' souls. (I'm not excusing the actions of the Roman Catholic Church, which are heinous. I am merely explaining here how RC would damn the Cathars' views.)
(2) Brother Bernard was not completely pure in his zeal. He lied when he felt it was necessary to escape punishment. He manipulated, inflamed, and used men whom he found useful. And he did have a book of black magic in his possession. This is a particularly interesting happenstance as his adherence to Spirituality demanded that he have few personal possessions. Why would such a book hold so much value to a Christian monk? It's particularly disconcerting given that the book contained spells and recipes for poisonous potions -- which well could have been used to murder his enemies. (Two popes, whom Bernard predicted would soon die, did expire quickly after his pronouncements.)
Highly recommended to those who are students of Church History and Politics, O'Shea's Friar of Carcassonne is an eye-opening investigation into the roots of The Inquisition.
The paucity of the sources doesn't quite support the dramatic potential of this tale of rebellion against the Inquisition.
O'Shea's sympathies are entirely for the fractious Franciscan friar Bernard Delicieux against his inquisitorial foes - he builds a good case despite the main source for the book being the record of his trial in 1318. Unfortunately that means despite being constantly cited as a superb orator, Bernard Delicieux's own voice is largely silent and large parts of his life are unclear.
O'Shea must curse the fact that despite all of the preserved walls of Carcassonne, the town's Wall --a prison of the inquisition-- no longer exists, as it looms so heavily over his story. However, his grounding as a historian of Catharism and the medieval world in general enables him to draw connections between the hotbed of religious dissent in Languedoc and events in Paris and Rome, and important figures in the medieval world such as Pope Boniface VIII and his quarrel with the French king Philip the Fair.
While the ties are interesting, Bernard Delicieux's story remains tantalisingly at the edges of this world. Was his rebellion part of the dying spasms of Catharism, a conflict between rising mendicant orders of the Catholic church or a patriotic plot for an independent Languedoc against a centralising France?
O'Shea declines to judge, preferring to focus on his story as one of individual abhorrence of a Christianity of fear. The bones of a great story here but it's hard to fully make out from the mouths of Bernard Delicieux's enemies.
The Friar of Carcassonne is a historical, sympathetic look at Bernard Délicieux, a 13th-century Franciscan monk who was a prominent opponent and critic of the excesses of the Inquisition in southern France.
By focusing on the circumstances and activities of a specific man, this book touches on universal themes still pertinent today, including the evils of oppression, torture, and fanaticism, and the urgency of resisting them even when such efforts may be futile.
This book is of interest to anyone with an interest in medieval Christian history, as it represents that history at a decisive moment, portending the tragedies and fractiousness to come.
(Note that I listened to the audiobook version of this book, superbly narrated by Derek Perkins.)
This is a really good detailed record of the happenings in the Languedoc where the machinations of the insidious inquisition and its servants, including popes and kings, determined to rid themselves of a Franciscan friar with a brilliant mind,who rebelled against what the church was doing under the pretext that heretics were lurking everywhere. Although this happened far back in time, you cannot but admire this man and despair at the way in which people were forced to accept the Catholic doctrine and its terrorising inquisition, causing them to implicate family members and neighbours through fear of their own lives.
A relatively quick read, but one that is dependent on external knowledge of the situation of the church and politics at the time. O’Shea rarely offers explaination of what is occurring, mainly stating the situation as it is occurs at the turn of the thirteen century. If one has the background, even moderate, of late medieval church and secular politics, it is a well deserved read
To establish, this is about the inquisition, mostly centered in newly expanded France and nearby regions, not The Inquisition, which was to follow within the next century as perfected by the Spanish. The agitator and leader of the uprising was a brave and inspiring person, and one of the few to successfully interrupt the inquisition and its work--of course being only a speedbump to the proceedings--but same time, had his own agendas and foibles. Hardly surprising. Historically compelling, sets a good sense of place and milieu, a lot of characters to keep track of and some do go crosseyed, but overall worth the investment.
I liked this, a relatively short book which shows how power, politic and religion combined to savage effect in early 14th century France. If I knew more about the Cathars and the political issues around the Languedoc then I would have probably got more out of it but even with my stunning level of ignorance I found it interesting (particularly the first half).
Very interesting and informative about the inquisition in France in the late 13th and early 14th century. Well-written but wouldn't call it a page-turner. I especially liked it because it takes place in an area we visited a few years back. I wish I'd read it before we went.
A fascinating look at one man's efforts to stop the Inquisition and save numerous lives. Friar Bernard helped protect the Cathars during the early 14th century thwarting not only the Catholic church but also the king of France. It was a very interesting time and he was a very intersting man.