THE RENAISSANCE IN MEDIEVAL CONTEXT 435
T
HE
R
EJECTION OF THE
M
IDDLE
A
GES
While the early Renaissance had much in common with the medieval period, it
also loudly rejected it. Perhaps the very loudness of that rejection should make us
wary of its genuineness, for people are seldom so absolutely insistent that they
have nothing at all to do with a given thing as when they in fact do. Nevertheless,
as early as Petrarca, the leading figures in the new humanist movement were
openly declaring their total opposition to all things medieval. The medieval
Church was, it went almost without saying, a horror show of corrupt politics and
dry-as-dust scholastic hairsplitting. Medieval Latin was a brutish, adulterated lan-
guage twisted and mangled beyond recognition from the pure elegance of writers
like Cicero and Tacitus; medieval architecture (by which the humanists meant
chiefly Gothic architecture) was a nightmare of spires, pointy arches, sculptural
excess, and tacky coloration; medieval philosophy was a charade of mind-
numbing abstraction and foolhardy systematization; medieval politics (by which
they meant feudal monarchy, for the most part) was mere barbarism by another
name, savage tribalism dressed up in robes and crowns. The grand role assumed
by the humanists was to configure a new path. The fifteenth-century philosopher
Marsilio Ficino (d. 1499) expressed admiration for his aggressively non-medieval
age: “This century has been a Golden Age, one that has restored to light all the
liberal arts—grammar, poetry, rhetoric, painting, sculpture, architecture, and mu-
sic—arts that were virtually extinct.”
Of course, the arts were hardly extinct in the Middle Ages, but they were
certainly devoted to somewhat different aims. Consider architecture, for example.
Ever since the rise of the great castles and cathedrals of the late twelfth and thir-
teenth centuries, architecture had been one of the dominant arts in Europe. In the
Middle Ages it was also an overwhelmingly public art form: A cathedral repre-
sented far more than a single building or plan designed by a single architect; it
was a public statement of faith, a commitment of hundreds of thousands of labor
hours and the equivalent of hundreds of millions of dollars over several genera-
tions (and sometimes over as many as two centuries) in pursuit of a spiritual
vision. It was an exaltation in stone. The first direct and overt challenge to Gothic
architectural style came with Filippo Brunelleschi (1377–1446), who completed the
cathedral of Florence around 1420. He did away with Gothic towers and pointed
arches, stripped away unnecessary statuary, and based his overall design on sim-
ple geometrical shapes (circular windows set within square panels that are them-
selves part of a clearly delineated rectangular wall plane, for example). The overall
effect is of a simpler and more harmonious gracefulness than a Gothic cathedral,
and its use of domes and columns consciously evokes the architectural styles of
the Roman world. From Brunelleschi’s revolt on, Renaissance architect never
looked back. Anything that was not, for a time, in conscious revolt against the
High Gothic style and the world that had created it was deemed artistically and
intellectually backward. Medieval had become a dirty word.
For all its positive qualities, early humanism had its problems. One was its
obvious elitism. The humanists did not want to speak like common people, think
like common people, or believe what common people believed. Petrarca went so
far as to criticize his beloved Cicero for having ventured into the messy world of
politics instead of staying at home to breathe the cleaner air of philosophy in his
private study, far from the sullying crowd; he also heaped scorn on the intrigues
in the papal court at Avignon, but the mess never bothered him enough to make
him leave or renounce his annuities. Giovanni Boccaccio magnificently sang the