This work investigates the theoretical and personal understanding of death, and its implicit relationship with birth, as perceived in medieval society. It studies the work of one specific illuminator, reniet, whose pictures embody medieval attitudes towards death.
“While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.” - Leonardo da Vinci
A beautiful book about death and dying in the middle ages, “Master of Death” has very good illustrations (45 color plates) from one of the great but unknown medieval illuminators, Pierre Remiet. In the 14th century, death aka the Grim Reaper was the center of life, a idea that is shocking to us in the modern age.
The late art historian, Michael Camille, has provided the reader a great deal of information of just why the obsession of death was so prevalent in the medieval era. There were many good reasons starting with the infant mortality rate. The number of infants who died within days after birth was between 30 and 50 per cent. There were also no antibiotics or vaccines so if a infant contracted an illness, he or she would die. The biggest danger was surviving childhood and the average lifespan was 33 years of age.
The diseases and malnutrition took a huge toll on the general population and the Black Death (bubonic plague) killed between a third and half of the population of Europe. The Great Famine of the early 14th century was particularly bad: climate change led to much colder than average temperatures in Europe from c 1300 – the ‘Little Ice Age’. At least 10 per cent – perhaps close to 15 per cent – of people in England died during this period. Sudden or premature death was also common in the medieval period and dying a “good death” was extremely important to medieval people.
The author explains that in the medieval Christian tradition, the very reason and purpose for life was to prepare for the afterlife. The hope of a reunion in Paradise and the religious doctrines provided consolation. Resignation in the face of death was a strategy of coping with inevitability and because of the uncertainties of life and the capriciousness of fortune, people had to devise strategies to cope with death.
French artist Pierre Remiet's master illuminations follows the path of death from beginning to the end. His morbid and sometimes grotesque drawings are documented in Paris between 1368 and 1396, some work was in the service of Louis d’Orléans.
I was very interested in how the manuscript illuminators made these handmade objects which are treasured as works of art and as symbols of enduring knowledge. They first made a silverpoint drawing of the design. (A silverpoint drawing is made by dragging a silver rod or wire across a surface, often prepared with gesso or primer.) Then they applied burnished gold dots and colors. Fourth step is the drawing of the marginal figures. They pen the rinceauz (plant scrolls) which appears at the boarder of the page. Last step is painting the marginal figures.
Poet Khalil Gibran wrote “that for life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.” I think that this wonderful book illustrates this point perfectly and is a great resource to readers interested in medieval art and culture. Five Stars.
I really wanted to read this. It's full of impressive detail and deep research, but unfortunately it's also full of annoying postmodern rhetoric that only got in the way of what could have been a fascinating study. I gave up after reading about a third of the book.
A wonderful if not a little academic volume on the singularly morbid art of 14th century master illuminator Pierre Remiet. His illuminations are quite different in tone and subject than a lot of the more mainstream material that most people know. He specialized in death and dieing imagery. The book has great reproduction of his illustrations. The book gives a great insight into the medieval mind concerning aging and death, as well as the life and times of this obscure and over look master illuminator
Now that I have taken a month to read this beautiful book, I am going to reread a book from my childhood that introduced me to wild images of flying skeletons, witches and spectres filling the sky (not The Golden Compass). Then I will probably spend two months analyzing the bibliography of Michael Camille's The Master of Death, one of my "favorite books of all time", for the moment. I wonder if anyone has picked up trying to identify more works by Pierre Remiet, since Camille's passing.
The first chapter is a neat kind of microhistory, but much of the book seems to be Foucault-esque criticism, which I'm not that interested in most of the time. (Abandoned 13 March 2012.)