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69 pages, Hardcover
First published January 4, 2019
And this wasn't the end of the story. It's never the end.
Fifty years earlier, a molten substance had flowed, flowed from Mainz over the rest of Europe, flowed between the hills of every town, between the letters of every name, in the gutters, between every twist and turn of thought; and every letter, every fragment of an idea, every punctuation mark had found itself cast in a bit of metal.
Fifty years earlier, a molten substance had flowed, flowed from Mainz over the rest of Europe, flowed between the hills of every town, between the letters of every name, in the gutters, between every twist and turn of thought; and every letter, every fragment of an idea, every punctuation mark had found itself cast in a bit of metal. (p2)The following excerpt is from the Chapter titled “The Summer Is Knocking At Our Doors." In it the author ruminates on the question of Müntzer’s personality, and more specifically was he sane or a prophet? I think the following demonstrates how the author’s writing took on the prophetic cadence and style of Müntzer himself.
Yes, Müntzer is violent; yes, Müntzer is a raving loon. He calls for the Kingdom of God here and now—there’s impatience for you! The inflamed are like that: They spring forth one fine day from the head of the populace the way ghosts seep from walls.The following excerpt is taken from the chapter titled, “Words.” Though Müntzer may have been partially motivated by religion, this excerpt clearly shows that the author considers his primary message to be one of secular revolution.
But by what treasure of distance and delegation, by what twists and turns of the soul are the great sophisms of power maintained? One could write a history—nuanced, subtle, wildly improbable; but also shameful, with a thousand doses of poison, of lies proffered, fabricated, admitted, believed, repeated; of sincere prejudices, secret, half-avowed guilty consciences, and all the contortions of which the soul is capable.
... ... ...
Müntzer is a crackpot, fair enough. Sectarian. Yes. Messianic. Yes. Intolerant. Yes. Bitter. Perhaps. Alone. Sort of. Here’s what he said: “Behold, I have put my words in your mouth; I have this day set you over the nations and over the kingdoms, to root out, and to pull down, and to destroy, and to throw down, to build, and to plant.” (p48)
Still, even a false word will convey a flash of truth between the lines. “It is not the peasants who arose against you masters, but God himself!” Luther reportedly said at first, in an admiring but horrified cry. But it wasn’t God. It was indeed the peasants rising up. Unless you want to define God as hunger, disease, humiliation, rags. It wasn’t God rising up, it was taxes, tithes, land rights, ground rents, tariffs, travel dues, hay harvests, droit du seigneur, cutting of noses, gouging of eyes, pinching with burning tongs, bodies broken on the wheel. In reality, quarrels about the Beyond have to do with the world here-below. That’s all the influence that those aggressive theologies still exert over us. The only reason for understanding their verbiage. Their impetuousness is a violent expression of poverty. The plebeians rebel. Hay for the peasants! Coal for the laborers! Dust for the road workers! Coins for the beggars! And words for us! Words, which are another convulsion of things. (p66)This book was originally written in French. My quotations are obviously from the English translation.
