ENGLISH 2322 LECTURE


MANNERISM

[Even as recently as the first quarter of the twentieth century it was customary for critics of English literature to include within the Renaissance everything from the end of the Middle Ages until about 1700 and to label the period from 1700 to the beginning of Romanticism as "neoclassical." Yet the entire age of artistic idealism from Ficino (1433-1499) to Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792) is essentially classical in spirit in that, first, it is dominated by the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle and, second, its literary artists turned to the great masterpieces of antiquity as sources and models. Critics in certain areas of art are becoming aware of differences in the aims of the artist as well as the character of the art works of these three centuries formerly termed the "Renaissance"; and they are beginning to reappraise the whole period, adding the concepts of Mannerism, Baroque, and Rococo to that of the Renaissance].



The first departure from the regularity, harmony, and balance of the Renaissance is to be noted in a tendency that critics of the visual arts have called "mannerism"--a term originally used regardless of period to describe the development of any deliberately adopted style tending to emphasize dexterity and formulas at the expense of expressive or representative content. Characterized by frank artificiality, extreme courtliness, and occasionally a suggestion of willful mystification, this impulse is observable not only in painting--where it is immediately perceptible to the eye--but also in music and literature.

As a term in aesthetics, it appeared in the second decade of the twentieth century. Propounded by such writers as Walter Friedlaender, Erwin Panofsky, and Nikolaus Pevsner among others, it has eventually passed over into the field of literature where, at present at least, it enjoys less general acceptance. In musical criticism it is not customarily applied to a single stylistic period or to a specific style in itself. Nevertheless, in spite of some divergence of opinion among scholars as to its appropriateness, there are observable in all the arts certain tendencies sufficiently different from those usually regarded as representative
either of the Renaissance or the Baroque that it seems justifiable to treat them as indicative of a separate stylistic concept.

While admitting this approach, one must also recognize that Mannerism is essentially a transitional style and that many works exemplifying the Mannerist spirit also exhibit traits suggestive of the Renaissance or of the Baroque. This problem, however, will be encountered in any stylistic study. Indeed, seldom can it be categorically stated that any work of art belongs only to a given period, for it frequently retains some traits from the preceding era and at the same time foreshadows those of the next.

Generally speaking, Manneristic art presents an impression of anxiety or tension that distinguishes it from the serenity of the Renaissance spirit. A seeming distortion and imbalance was apparently the result of a conscious effort on the part of the artist to offset the bland serenity and balance of the earlier period.

In an analysis of Mannerism in literature and the visual arts from the viewpoint of the social historian, Arnold Hauser attributes its "often anxious imitation of classical models" to an "over-compensation for the spiritual distance by which it was separated from them," which resulted in its "feeling of insecurity." He maintains that "it is impossible to understand Mannerism if one does not grasp the fact that its imitation of classical models is an escape from the threatening chaos, and that the subjective over-straining of its forms is the expression of the fear that form might fail in the struggle with life and art fade into soulless beauty." [Arnold Hauser,The Social History of Art (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1951), I, 355-56.]

HAUSER ALSO IDENTIFIES TWO OPPOSED CURRENTS IN MANNERISM: SPIRITUALISM (OR IDEALISM) AND NATURALISM (OR REALISM), BOTH OF WHICH ARE USUALLY FOUND "INDISSOLUBLY INTERTWINED" IN ONE INDIVIDUAL. Recognizing that Mannerism does not cover a particular, strictly confined, historical period, he points out that along with its Renaissance traits "it is mingled with baroque tendencies."

In the visual arts the tension, irresolution, imbalance, and the lack of unity and proportion, to which the critics refer, are immediately apparent. In Tintoretto's "Last Supper" in the church of San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice, for example, the lack of focus within the painting causes the eye to wander back and forth as it follows first this line and then that in its search
for the artist's intended point of emphasis. The verticals and horizontals that gave firmness to the Renaissance paintings have been displaced by diagonals and off-center perspectives that lend an impression of anxiety, even possibly of terror. The table is placed at the viewer's left and run diagonally back toward the right rear. The eye, passing along it, is momentarily caught by the distracting lights of the halos and the shadowy figures of the apostles. In depicting the same subject, Leonardo da Vinci makes the head of Christ the center of focus and also the center of the painting. But Tintoretto places the Master's head above the center of his painting, while the diagonal lines of perspective run by the important figure, which is subordinated by the surrounding crowd, to a vanishing point outside the picture.

Pevsner makes an excellent case for the application of the term "mannerism" to architecture. In his argument he states the "tendency to enforce movement through space within rigid boundaries is the chief spatial quality of mannerism." As an illustration of "Mannerism in its most sublime architectural form and not Baroque," he cites Michelangelo's anteroom to the Laurentian Library built for the Medicis is Florence.

Although this transitional phase has not generally been identified in music, it is evident there as well as in the visual arts. As a typically Mannerist style of writing, one may cite the madrigals of Don Carlo Guesaldo. When compared with essentially Renaissance writing, they are full of unresolved dissonances, "illogical" modulations, and chromatic progressions. There is a new quality of harmonic intensity and dissonant eccentricity, marking a caesura with the more relaxed concept of the preceding era.

In Mannerist literature the joy of life that had characterized the poetry and prose of the Renaissance suddenly vanishes and is replaced by cynicism, weariness of the world, and a preoccupation with death, dissolution and decay.

Though this new attitude is sometimes mistaken for realism, it is quite as artificial as the conventions of Platonic love. In fact, the metaphors of the Mannerists, frequently based on distasteful, even obscene comparisons, are as "conceited" as the blandly beautiful imagery of the earlier poets. In short, this period in all the fine arts is marked by restlessness, a disturbed balance, and a sense of insecurity and anxiety.

Before entering upon a discussion of literary Mannerism, it might be well to consider its background. Historically the movement was precipitated by a series of political and religious events that shoot man's confidence in the order and harmony of the universe. Just as the
Renaissance began in Italy, so this reaction to its enthusiasm may be traced to an Italian source. The invasion of that country by Germany and Spain, both of which were perhaps less influenced by the Renaissance than England, accompanied by Italy's loss of economic supremacy, shocked the people of western Europe. In addition to these political and economic blows at Italian prestige, the Protestant Reformation, set off by Martin Luther in Germany, alienated from Rome the spiritual sympathy of much of northern Europe. The sack of Rome by the armies of Emperor Charles V completed the separation. Shortly afterward, mainly from Spain, came another force which was perhaps most responsible for the change from the secular art of the Renaissance to the religious art of the Baroque, namely, the Counter Reformation with its great mystical writers--St. Teresa of Jesus, commonly known as St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582), St. John of the Cross (1542-1591), and the founder of the religious order always identified with the Counter Reformation, St. Ignatius Loyola of the Society of Jesus (1491-1556).

In English literature, as far as form is concerned, the beginnings of the Mannerist trend may most clearly be seen in the development of such extremely artificial prose styles as those in Lyly's Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit (1578) and Euphues and His England
(1580) and Sidney's The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia

(1590). Unlike Lyly and Sidney, the humanists, searching for a suitable prose style, had earlier turned to classical models. Sir Thomas More had lamented that he would have preferred to write the Utopiain Greek rather than in Latin but that too few people could read Greek. Nevertheless, even in his Latin he retained the easy conversational style of Plato. His first important successor, Sir Thomas Elyot, in

The Boke Named the Governour,

also consciously used a Greco-English idiom. After him, however, English scholars turned to Latin, particularly to Cicero; and roger Ascham in

The Scholemaster

not only explains how Latin should be properly taught but actually exhibits how a good Ciceronian prose could be developed in English.

John Lyly, the grandson of William Lyly, who was the author of the first Latin grammar, borrowed the title for his romance and also his Ciceronian style from Ascham. From Elyot's story of Titus and Gisppus in

lThe Boke Named the Governour

, Lyly derived his plot involving two close friends. In More's fanciful tale of Utopian culture, shadowing forth and satirizing contemporary English life, Lyly perceived the popular appeal of an imaginative narrative. Then using every rhetorical device known to Cicero and his medieval imitators, Lyly developed the bizarre, highly exaggerated style that came to be known as euphuism. What he has to say is
trivial, but his mnode of expression amazes the reader. by means of skillful alliteration and repetition he balances word against word, phrase against phrase, clause against clause in an astonishing bravura. For the purpose of sheer decoration, similes and metaphors drawn from classical sources, commonplace knolwedge, and Elizabethan "unnatural natural history" crowd his pages.

From 1579, when his first romance was published, until the early 1590's everyone wrote and spoke euphuistically. Almost every piece of literature is inflected with this florid style. Shakespeare in his early comedy

Love's Labor's Lost

(ca. 11594) uses it as typical of courtly conversation. One of the most talented of his contemporaries, Thomas Nashe (1567-1601), began with euphuism in

The Anatomie of Absurdity

(1589), the title of which echoes Lyly's bubtitle

The Anatomy of Wit

, but Nashe's original mind quickly tired of its artificiality. Thomas Lodge and Robert Greene likewise imitiated Lyly's style and plagiarized his title in order to sell their own romances.

Another exaggeration of formal Renaissance style appears in Sidney's

Arcadia

. Even though the construction of Sidney's sentences is not as highly rhetorical as Lyly's, his language is quite as ornate. Sidney's numerous descriptive passages are richly embellished with methphors derived form classical literature. As a result of its subtler technique, however, "Arcadiansim" found fewer imitators than euphuism.

Although in form these two prose styles suggest the straining for effect, sometimes to the point of the grotesque usually associated with Mannerism, it is rather in the content of the poetry written about 1600 that the true contrast between this trend and the Renaissance is most evident. The pessimistic answer of Sir Walter Raleigh (1572-1616) to "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" (ca. 1589) by Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593) well illustrates the change in mood. Marloew's lyric epitomizes the Renaissance delight in the joys and beauties of this world:

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sings madrigals.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come with me, and be my love.

The Shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

In the "Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd" Raleigh reveals a new awarness that not only

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields


but that all worldly pleasures and possessions--"gowns," "shoes," beds of roses," "cap," "kirtle," and "posies"--


Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.


Raleigh's cynical attitude toward romantic love in reiterated in a second poem, "A Description of Love" (ca. 1600).

Perhaps not quite so obvious as this direct interchange of views is the transformation of the sonnet cycle, which, as has been pointed out, best illustrates the formality and restraint of Renaissance literature. It now serves as a sort of weather vane indicating the change in artistic feeling. The critic aware of the Mannerist elements in the sonnets of that greatest of all sonneteers, William Shakespeare (1564-1616), need not trouble himself with the problem of Mr. W. H. or the Dark Lady. Herein, indeed, may be found the reason for Shakespeare's rejection of many of the conventions of the other Elizabethan poets. Typically, Mannerist in clinging to the established forms, he retained the fourteen-line stanza (with one or two exceptions), but he evidently preferred the less restraining English sonnet of three quatrains and a couplet to the more rigin Italian sonnet of Petrarch. Similarly, he took over the Platonic concept of the importance of the eye in love. Not content, however, with developing one "occular image," he crowded his miniature poems as the Mannerist Tintoretto crowded his large canvases. For example, in the sonnet beginning "Mine eye hath play'd the painter," the eye is not merely "love's immortal light" where Cupid shoots his darts "to base affections would," as in Spenser's two sonnets "More than most fair" and "One day as I unwarily did gaze". To Shakespeare the eye becomes a "painter" of "beauty's formn," the heart is the "table" or canvas, the body is the "frame," the bosom is the painter's "shop,"
the windows of which are glazed by the eyes of the loved one through which "the sun delights to peep."

Shakespeare likewise takes over the conventional allusion to the disconsolate lover's attempt to sleep away his sorrow. But where Sidney is his sonnet "Come, Sleep! O Sleep" concentrates on the conventional metaphors for sleep, Shakespeare in "Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed" prefers to celebrate sleeplessness, which he compares to a journey on which his thoughts like pilgrims travel to his dear friend. This metaphor then twists itself into a sort of paradoxical reference to his eyes "looking on darkness which the blind do see" and then into an even more grotesque simile of the image of his loved one "like a jewel hung in ghastly night" before his "sightless view" in order to make "black night beauteous and her old face new."

Shakespeare's departure in content from the conventional sonnet is most apparent in his cynical treatment of courtly love, equaled only by Nashe's satire on the Earl of Surrey's serenade of Geraldine in

The Unfortunate Traveller

(1594), written about the same time. In the first place, instead of love between the sexes, Shakespeare celebrates friendship of man for man, which according to the Renaissance convention is superior to sexual love in that it is the intellectual, or Platonic love praised by Ficino, which, free from any sensual strain, approaches the love of God. Then, by feigning an
adulterous act committed by a friend with the poet's wife, (sonnets beginning "Full many a glorious morning," "Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day," "No more be griev'd at that whichthou hast done," "Let me confess that we two must be twain," "Take all my loves," "Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits," and "That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,") and condoning the act for the sake of friendship, Shakespeare places a strain on our credulity much as does El Greco in his elongated representations of the human figure. Again, in order to emphasize the feigned superiority of friendship, Shakespeare discards the idealized lady of the other sonneteers and portrays a mistress (not necessarily connected with the predceding episode) whose lack of physical and moral beauty is in decided contrast to the superlative charm of the conventional lady. Arnold Hauser terms Michelangelo's "Last Judgment," which he classifies as Mannerist, "the first important artistic creation of modern times which is

no longer

'beautiful'" and, more specifically, "a protest achieved with obvious difficulty, against beautiful, perfect, immaculate form" (Hauser, p. 370). Certainly Shakespeare's Dark Lady is a similar protest.

Shakespeare's cynical treatment of love between the sexes in his sonnets resembles that of his friend Michael Drayton (1563-1631), whose admission that his own love may not last forever (in his sonnet "Since there's no help") would have been regarded as heresy by the strictest Platonists. Another significant difference between the
Petrarchists and either Shakespeare or Drayton is the realistic expression by the latter of the transitoriness of earthly beauties and pleasure. Shakespeare, indeed, constantly dwells on the changes wrought by the passing of time. Though Shakespeare, like Spenser and Daniel, promises through the eternal lines of his poetry to immortalize his friend's beauty, his frequent references to the destructiveness of time--"wasteful Time," "devouring Time," "Time's scythe," Time's fell hand," "this bloody tyrant, Time," "Time's injurious hand," "Time's tyranny," "Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour," "swift-footed time," the wastes of time," "time's waste, "time's furrows," sluttish time," the ravages wrought by time on "beauty's brow" and "nature's truth," the "all too short a date" of "summer's lease"--all these will not let his reader forget that inevitably the "surly suollen bell" will toll this beauty to the grave, to "vilest worms" and "death's dateless night."

Shakespeare's awarness that worldly glory is ephemeral is by no means limited to his sonnets. Perhaps its most impressive manifestation appears in

Hamlet

, which was completed in 1600 or 1601 at about the high point in this transitional period. As far as plot is concerned, most of the graveyard scene has little significance, and the distinguished actor-producer Maurice Evans in his G>I>

Hamlet

proved, may be omitted. Yet such gratuitous scenes as this illustrate even more clearly than do either plot or character the prevailing mood of the time. It is though Shakespeare felt that he had to

express

...an inner compulsion, this almost morbid preoccupation with death.

In a more deeply religious spirit, suggestive of the Baroque close at hand, are the poems written by Raleigh and the jesuit martyr Robert Southwell (1561-1595): respectively, "The Passionate Man's Pilgrimage, Supposed to Be Written by One at the Point of Death" (ca. 1603) and "Upon the Image of Death" (ca. 1595). Each was forced to walk the Valley of the Shadow more than once before he finally was executed on false accusations of conspiracy. Both in their personal lives represent the "complete gentleman," which was the Elizabethan counterpart of Castiglione's courtier--Raleigh in the secular sphere and Southwell in the spiritual. Thus, in their lives as well as in their writings, they illustrate the transitional quality of Mannerism, which, as has been pointed out, contains some Renaissance and some Baroque elements.

The religious spirit in Mannerist art is directly attributable to the Counter Reformation, which was the Roman Catholic reply to Protestant criticism. It is not surprising, then, that this spirit may be observed in Shakespeare, whose sympathy with the Old Faith is mainfest in his plays. It is even more apparent in John Donne (1572-1631), who came from one of the most distinguished Roman Catholic families in post-Reformation England. His mother was a grand-niece of the mnartyred Sir Thomas More. Thus Donne himself had
a unrivalled chance by birth and inheritance to be hanged, drawn, and quartered in the best Elizabethan manner." And she maintains that though he eventually was converted to Anglicanism as the Dean of St. Paul's became one of the most distinguished preachers of the Church of England, "in a good many fundamentals of taste and feeling he always remained a Catholic rather than a Protestant."

During his youth he spent several years in Italy and Spain, where the Counter Reformation was in full swing. In later life he showed a strong anti-Jesuite prejudice, later apprrent in his

Ignatus His Conclave

(1611), which was perhaps a reaction to the attempts of his uncle, Father Jasper Heywood, to induce him to join the order. Yet one wonders whether while in Spain he may not have read the autobiography of St. Theresa of Avila or the beautiful poems of her gifted Carmelite St. John of the Cross or even the "Spiritual Exercises" (1548) by St. Ignatius himself. At any rate, before commenting on Donne as a representative of Manneristic-Baroque art, we shall consider the influence of the council of Trent (1545-63) and the saints whose writings it directly affected.

In reply to the Protestant attacks on the emphasis hitherto placed by the Catholic Church on painting and sculpture, this council specified certain religious themes and treatments of them as suitable for artistic representation. For example, in order to make the laymay aware of the divinity of Christ and the holiness of the saints and
martyrs of the Church, the artist was urged to portray in detail their activities while on earth with reference, of course, to their eventual glory in paradise. At all timese he must be conscious of the eternal paradox of time and eternity--the contrast between earthly happiness mingled with grief, on the one handm, and the never-ending joy in heaven with God and his saints, on the other. To Martin Luther and the Calvinists this religious art was a form of idolatry, a worshiping of graven images, but to the jesuits it was a means of awaikening human sensibility and of leading the worldly sinner back to God. Eventually, this impulse was to flower into the magnificent splendor of Baroque painting, sculpture, and architecture as seen in the ceiling of the Church of the Gesu, in Bernini's St. Teresa in Ectasy," and in his colonnade to St. Peter's Cathedral--all situated in Rome, the center of Catholicism,

Particularly representative of the spirit of the Counter Reformation is St. Teresa of Avila. In her childhood she was horrified at the Protestant Reformation. As she grew older, she became convinced that it was a judgement of God on the laxity of the Church, especially among the religious orders, and she therefore decided to do what she oculd to strengthen their discipline. For this purpose, though opposed by powerful ecclesiastical and political forces, she founded and administered the order of the Discalced Carmelite Nuns of the Primitive Rule of St. Joseph. In spite of the rigors of the Carmelite rule, she found many followers eager to
embrace it. Her reputation as a woman of great common sense and practical ability quickly became overshadowed by her own accounts of her mystical experiences, which fascinated her readers and became the subject for artistic representation. Apparently in this age of tension and anxiety they offered the artist that mysterious blend of pleasure and of pain which he strove to convey in his creation.

At the request of her director, Fra Ribera, she wrote eight books, the most famous of which are the

Vida

(1565) and two others intended as guides for the ascent of souls from normal piety to special and supernatural graces, namely

The Way of Perfection

(1577) and

The Interior Castle

(1577). As her writings were tranlated into Latin, French, Italian, Polish, German, and English, her fame spread throughout Europe. Although she shows a thorough knowledge of the Bible as a whole, she seems particularly fond of the Canticle of Canticles, the beautiful Hebrew song of love, in which , according to Christian explication, the lover represents Christ and the beloved his church, and hence, every Christian soul. Even more indebted to the Canticle of Canticles are the writings of St. John of the Cross, who not only prepared a prose interpretation of it line by line but also imitiated it in several original poems, all of which possess a similarly sensuous imagery and mystical quality.

Thus, the coldly intellectual, unimpassioned Platonic expression of love for ideal beauty merges with the highly metaphorical, highly
erotic, and extremely personal Hebrais-Christian ideal of love. For the purpose of symbolizing the soul's approach to ideal beauty and goodness, the mystical love-imagery of the Song of Solomon took precedence over Plato's praise of love in his

Symposium

, which contains, in addition to Diotima's narrative, other descriptions of love less compatible with Christian morality. Yet the philosophy of St. Teresa in certain respects resembles that of Ficino's Platonism. In

The Way of Perfection,

whic h suggests Diotima's ascent of the Ideal, we are reminded of Ficino's description of love as a "sweet Death": "Insofar as it is death, it is bitter, and insofar as it is voluntary it is sweet." Observing also that "whenever two people are brought together in mutual affection, on lives in the other and the other in him" so that they "mutually exchange identities," Ficino confesses that "how one receives the other" baffles him. After attempting to solve the problem in the manner of Euclid, he throws up his hands with a rhapsodical "O, Happy death, which is followed by two lives!" But whereas Ficino is here discussing human love, St. Teresa uses the sensuous imagery already sanctioned by the Scriptures to describe divine love, the spirutual union with God.

Even though Donne may never have read St. Teresa or St. John of the Cross during his stay in Spain, where he collected a large library of Spanish literature, he could hardly have escaped the influence of the spirit that
animated both saints. He also had the humanist Ficino as precedent not only for the close relationship between the Eros and the death wish, which predominates in his secular love songs, but also for the expression of this relationship in its sublimated form in his later religious poetry.

With Donne's conversion to Anglicanism an entrance was made for the artistic impulse of the Counter Reformation into Protestant England. In the meantime, on the Continent the Roman Catholic church had become aware of the powerful appeal of Baroque architecture, sculpture, and music to the senses and hence its tremendous power as an instrument of religious propaganda. Through Bernini's sweeping colonnades extending outward in semicircles like beckoning arms from St. Peter's and the Vatican, the Church welecomed back into the fold those who had wandered away. The magnificant organ music of the Gabrielis, heard in the richly decorated interiors of such churches as the Gesu with its ceiling opening, as it were, upon a vision of heaven, was intended to fill the worshiper with an intense desire for heavenly bliss. And the anxiety aroused by the dissatisfaction with, even eistrust of, the things of this world was thereby offset by faith in the life everlasting.





ILLUSTRATIONS FROM LITERATURE




A NEW CYNICAL ATTITUDE TOWARDS LOVE





I. SIR WALTER RALEIGH

A. A DESCRIPTON OF LOVE

B. THE NYMPHS'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD


II. JOHN DONNE

A. THE BAIT

B. SONG

C. THE INDIFFERENT


III. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

A. SONNET 130, 138



SONNET CONVENTIONS EMBROIDERED WITH EXAGGERATED CONCEITS




I. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

A. SONNET 24, 46, 47


THE SUFFERING OF THE LOVER SEPARATED FROM HIS BELOVED



I. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

A. SONNET 27


A GROWING AWARNESS OF OLD AGE, DEATH, AND THE IMPEREMANENCE OF WORLDLY HAPPINESS




I. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

A. SONNET 12, 13, 15, 18, 25, 30, 60, 64, 71, 73.


LOVE AND DEATH




I. JOHN DONNE

A. THE FUNERAL

B. A VALEDICTION: FORBIDDING MOURNING

C. THE WILL

D. THE CANONIZATION



A PREOCCUPATION WITH DEATH



I. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

A.

HAMLET

(ACT V, SCENE 1)


II. SIR WALTER RALEIGH

A. THE PASSIONATE MAN'S PILGRIMAGE SUPPOSED
TO BE WRITTEN BY ONE AT THE POINT OF DEATH



THE MYSTICAL CONCEPT OF DIVINE LOVE




I. SOLOMON'S CANTICLE OF CANTICLES (DOUAY, 1609)

II. ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS

A. SONGS BETWEEN THE SOUL AND THE SPOUCE


III. ST. TERSEA OF AVILA

A. THE FLAMING HART OR THE LIVE OF THE GLORIOUS
S. TERESA




PARALLEL EXAMPLES IN THE FINE ARTS



P A I N T I N G


Greco, El

: Assumption of the Virgin; Burial of Count Orgaz; Christ in the Garden; St. Mary Magdalen Repentant.


Parmigianino:

Madonna of the Long Neck

Michelangelo Buonarrroti:

Last Judgement

Tintoretto:

Brazen Serpent; Last Supper; Presentation of the Virgin.




A R C H I T E C T U R E


FLORENCE: Laurentian Library; Medici Chapel.

ROME: Massimi Palace



S C U L P T U R E



Cellini:

Ganymede et l'aigle; Perseus

Michelangelo Buonarroti:

Medici Madonna; Medici Tombs; Victor.




M U S I C



GESUALDO: VARIOUS MOTETS