Abstract
Augustine was a primary narrative warrant and exemplar for the Middle Ages. His Confessions and City of God served the medieval period as canonical autobiography and historiography, respectively. The Confessions was present from the first stirrings of the medieval autobiographical impulse. For instance, Guibert of Nogent in his Monodiae (1115) pastiches its prayerful opening, its self-deprecation, and the dominant personality of its author’s mother. Although the latter part of Guibert’s account diverges from the form and content of the Confessions, Guibert needed the Confessions to get him started. In on the ground floor of the genre, the Confessions appeared also at its height. Dante’s Commedia, the premiere medieval history and fiction of the self, owes a tremendous amount to the Confessions both theologically and structurally, as a burgeoning critical discourse has clarified.1 Similarly, Augustine’s City of God cast a tremendous—some would say catastrophic—shadow over medieval historiography. Opposing Eusebius’s triumphal merger of church and Roman state, the City of God drains political space of historical meaning and diverts historians like Bede into strictly ecclesiastical matters. Lee Patterson has argued that the City of God salted the field of Christian history so thoroughly for medieval political historians that they had to reach all the way back to Vergilian linear narrative and the matter of Troy for models of narrative form.2
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Notes
See Christine O’Connell Baur, Dante’s Hermeneutics of Salvation: Passages to Freedom in the Divine Comedy (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2007);
Robert McMahon, Understanding the Medieval Meditative Ascent: Augustine, Anselm, Boethius, & Dante (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2006);
Martha Nussbaum, “Augustine and Dante on the Ascent of Love,” in The Augustinian Tradition, ed. Gareth B. Matthews (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), pp. 61–90;
Phillip Cary, “The Weight of Love: Augustinian Metaphors of Movement in Dante’s Souls,” Augustine and Literature, Augustine in Conversation: Tradition and Innovation, ed. Robert P. Kennedy, Kim Paffenroth, and John Doody (Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2006), pp. 15–36;
and, most importantly, the essays collected in John Freccero, Dante: The Poetics of Conversion, ed. Rachel Jacoff (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986).
Lee Patterson, Negotiating the Past: The Historical Understanding of Medieval Literature (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1987), p. 160.
Plotinus must admit to and address the philosopher’s return to temporality after ecstatic earthly union with the Divine, but he says that the philosopher spends that subsequent time trying to reascend the height of vision once again (Enneads VI, 9.11). This shift in emphasis from the transtemporal intellectual vision to service within time is a fundamental difference between Neoplatonic and Augustinian narrative. As Gedaliahu G. Stroumsa, “Caro salutis cardo: Shaping the Person in Early Christian Thought,” History of Religions 30 (1990), p. 28, explains, “Where Plotinus sought to reach the state of contemplation (theoreisthai), it is on the path of sustained effort leading to it (quaerere) that Augustine will insist most.”
Paul Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, vol. 1, trans. Kathleen McLaughlin and David Pellauer (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), pp. 5–30, argued that Augustine’s placing time in the context of eternity made close attention to narrative plot impossible; Ricoeur had to resort to Aristotle for a classical theory of emplotment.
I owe this characterization of Ricoeur’s remarks to M. B. Pranger, “Time and Narrative in Augustine’s Confessions,” The Journal of Religion 81.3 (2001), p. 377. Viewed broadly enough, Augustine’s history contextualizes time with eternity before creation and after apocalypse. But divine interventions within time are contextualized by time also.
Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo: A Biography, rev. ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), pp. 151–75.
Catherine Conybeare, The Irrational Augustine, Oxford Early Christian Studies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), traces in Augustine’s Cassiciacum dialogues this process of disillusionment with Neoplatonic resources for Christian philosophy. Augustine wrote those dialogues in the gap between his conversion and the Confessions.
The major monograph on the subject is R. A. Markus, Saeculum: History and Society in the Theology of St. Augustine, rev. ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988). A programmatic statement occurs on pp. 20–21: One of the fundamental themes of his [Augustine’s] reflection on history: that since the coming of Christ, until the end of the world, all history is homogenous, that it cannot be mapped out in terms of a pattern drawn from sacred history, that it can no longer contain decisive turning-points endowed with a significance in sacred history. Every moment may have its unique and mysterious significance in the ultimate divine tableau of men’s doings and sufferings; but it is a significance to which God’s revelation does not supply the clues. The coming of Christ served as the culmination of all prior history, but subsequent history is virtually unreadable.
See Carol Harrison, Augustine: Christian Truth and Fractured Humanity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 205, for a similar reading of Augustinian historiography as intractably ambiguous after the incarnation.
As Brian Stock has demonstrated, Augustine’s theory of time intersects with his theory of reading and textuality to engender a theory of paraenetic interpretation. Repeated provisional readings of a story or a past that has not yet reached its end generate increasingly fruitful, if always still provisional, interpretations of that story, gradually accumulating its particular shape until a reader participating in that story may be able to project what comes next, and even what to do next. See Stock’s Augustine the Reader: Meditation, Self-Knowledge, and the Ethics of Interpretation (Cambridge: Belknap, 1996), and After Augustine: The Meditative Reader and the Text (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001).
For Augustine’s historical place in the patristic discipline, see Erich Auerbach, “Figura,” trans. Ralph Manheim, in Scenes from the Drama of European Literature, Theory and History of Literature 9 (Minneapolis: University ofMinnesota Press, 1984), pp. 37–42;
Frances M.Young, Biblical Exegesis and the Formation of Christian Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), pp. 289–94;
and Curtis W. Freeman, “Figure and History: A Contemporary Reassessment of Augustine’s Hermeneutic,” Augustine: Presbyter Factus Sum, ed. Joseph T. Lienhard, Earl C. Muller, and Roland J. Teske, Collectanea Augustiniana 2 (New York: Peter Lang, 1993), pp. 319–29.
For his influence on medieval and Renaissance figurai reading, see Lisa Freinkel, Reading Shakespeare’s Will: The Theology of Figure from Augustine to the Sonnets (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002);
and Ephraim Radner, The End of the Church: A Pneumatology of Christian Division in the West (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1998).
Oscar Cullman, Christ and Time: The Primitive Christian Conception of Time and History, rev. ed., trans. Floyd V. Filson (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1964), pp. 23, 32–3, identifies Christ’s incarnation as the center, not the end, of the early Christian conception of time and history. Radner, p. 29, applies this concept of centrality to Christ’s mediation between Israel and the church, the guarantor of what Radner calls figuralist exegesis.
Paula Fredriksen, “Paul and Augustine: Conversion Narratives, Orthodox Traditions, and the Retrospective Self,” Journal of Theological Studies 37 (1986), p. 3.
Cary, Augustine’s Invention of the Inner Self: The Legacy of a Christian Platonist (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), Inner Grace: Augustine in the Traditions of Plato and Paul (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), and Outward Signs: The Powerlessness of External Things in Augustine’s Thought (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008).
The concept is not uniquely Cary’s; see Jean-Marie Le Blond, Les Conversions de Saint Augustin, Théologie Etudes Publiées Sous la Direction de la Faculté de Théologie S. J. De Lyon-Fourvière 17 (Paris: Aubier, 1950), pp. 89–171.
James J. O’Donnell, Augustine: Confessions, 3 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), 1, p. xviii.
Gerard O’Daly, Augustine’s City of God: A Reader’s Guide (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999), pp. 160–95;
and Jaroslav Pelikan, The Mystery of Continuity: Time and History, Memory and Eternity in the Thought of Saint Augustine (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1986), pp. 34–51.
Denys Hay, Annalists and Historians: Western Historiography from the Eighth to the Eighteenth Centuries (London: Methuen, 1977), pp. 19–22.
Peter Brown, “Political Society,” Augustine: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. R. A. Markus (Garden City, NY: Doubleday/Anchor, 1972), p. 322. The bulk of Markus’s work on Augustine, in particular his Saeculum and Conversion and Disenchantment in Augustine’s Spiritual Career, The Saint Augustine Lecture 1984 (Villanova, PA: Villanova University Press, 1989), expounds this general principle.
Oliver O’Donovan, “Augustine’s City of God XIX and Western Political Thought,” Dionysius 11 (1987), pp. 105–6.
Harrison briefly aligns the two works thus: after an ordered beginning, just as Augustine then turns in Confessions 10 to examine his present life as a Christian in the sixth age of the world, and presents it very much as one wholly dependent upon God’s grace, incapable of realizing the good or attaining the truth without it, so in Book 19 of City of God he turns to examine the lives of the members of the city of God in the present age, unable to realize true justice, peace, love or order in this life but longing for their eschatologi-cal realization in the life to come. Both works also conclude with three books which anticipate the seventh age of eternal life in the life to come. (p. 206) First she gives the linear progression, then the unsatisfactory and epistemologically compromised present time after it, then the eschatology. Her warrant is the “six ages of man” narrative model, although this model seems not to be a clearly marked structural principle in the Confessions, save for the conversionary fifth age and the anticlimactic sixth. Although her emphasis is on their climactic eschatologies as times of redemption, Marjorie Suchocki, “The Symbolic Structure of Augustine’s Confessions,” The Journal of the American Academy of Religion 50.3 (1982), pp. 365–78, also directly aligns the Confessions and City of God structurally: “Each uses its own distinctive mode to tell the same story” (p. 377).
All translations of the City of God are taken from Augustine, The City of God against the Pagans, ed. and trans. R. W. Dyson, Cambridge Texts in the History of Political Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998).
Michael Cameron, “The Christological Substructure of Augustine’s Figurative Exegesis,” Augustine and the Bible, ed. and trans. Pamela Bright, The Bible through the Ages 2 (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1999), p. 91, restates this insight in terms of Augustine’s historiographical semiotics, or his semiotic historiography: “The distinguishing characteristic of the figurative prophetic sign is that it is both thing and sign, both literal and figurative (cf. [OCD] 3.12.20, 3.22.32).” The distinction between historiography and semiotics is porous enough in figurai reading to be nearly meaningless.
Now they are reduced to bearing the Christian scriptures blindly (Expositions. 56.9). See Marcel Simon, Verus Israel: A Study of the Relations between Christians and Jews in the Roman Empire (135–425), trans. H. McKeating, The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), p. 71;
and Jill Robbins, Prodigal Son/Elder Brother: Interpretation and Alterity in Augustine, Petrarch, Kafka, Levinas, Religion and Postmodernism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 21–39, for readings of Augustine as anti-Semitic;
and Paula Fredriksen, “Secundum Carnem: History and Israel in the Theology of St. Augustine,” The Limits of Ancient Christianity: Essays on Late Antique Thought and Culture in Honor of R. A. Markus, ed. William E. Klingshirn and Mark Vessey (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1999), pp. 24–41, for an argument that Augustine’s exegesis was too figurai, thus too attentive to history, to slough the Jewish history and people off as literal, historical, and therefore unimportant.
Camille Bennett, “The Conversion of Vergil: The Aeneid in Augustine’s Confessions,” Revue des Etudes Augustiniennes 34 (1988), pp. 47–69, argues that Augustine reads Vergil’s pagan text spiritually as a figurai pattern for his own narrative self-construction.
The Edenic symbolism is a critical commonplace, but for a detailed examination, see McMahon, “Autobiography as Text-Work: Augustine’s Refiguring of Genesis 3 and Ovid’s ‘Narcissus’ in His Conversion Account,” Exemplaria 1.2 (1989), pp. 341–9.
For resemblances to Paul’s conversion, see Fredriksen, “Paul and Augustine,” and Leo C. Ferrari, “Saint Augustine on the Road to Damascus,” Augustinian Studies 13 (1982), pp. 151–70.
See Pierre Courcelle, Recherches sur les Confessions de Saint Augustin (Paris: Boccard, 1950), pp. 190ff; McMahon, “Autobiography,” especially pp. 340, 359; Ferrari, “Saint Augustine on the Road to Damascus” and “Book Eight: Science and the Fictional Conversion Scene,” A Reader’s Companion, pp. 127–36; and Fredriksen, “Paul and Augustine.” Most of these arguments assume that imposing retrospective structure, particularly literary, upon an historical experience compromises a real, unmediated encounter with its unstructured historicity. Symbols are fictional; history takes place outside signifying systems. In short, this debate hinges upon whether to read the Augustine in Confessions as an allegorical, nonliteral sign or an historical figure. Figurai exegesis, however, reads literal history as text, the signifying system of God; the two categories are not mutually exclusive. It seems likely to me that Augustine intends the account in book 8 to be read as essentially historically accurate.
For this view, see also Henry Chadwick, “History and Symbolism in the Garden at Milan,” From Augustine to Eriugena: Essays on Neoplatonism and Christianity in Honor of John O’Meara, ed. F. X. Martin and J. A. Richmond (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1991), pp. 42–55.
Thomas J. Heffernan, Sacred Biography: Saints and Their Biographers in the Middle Ages (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), pp. 20, 72–122.
Augustine’s semiotics holds together the necessity of transitory signs and the temporal dilation required for their interpretation. The present can never be seized upon; in time, events and their interpretations are continually passing away. Yet humans must experience phenomena in time and sequence in order to view their totality. Meaning making requires rumination, a process in which tentative interpretations are continually made and revised as phenomena appear until they cease to appear upon arrival at a meaningful end. Tentative and partial attributions of meaning are the only (pseudo-) closures available in time. In an influential essay, Rowan Williams, “Language, Reality and Desire in Augustine’s De Doctrina,” Journal of Literature & Theology 3.2 (1989), p. 140, argues that Augustine’s identification of temporal signs as pointers toward an eternal God “entails that there is no finality, no ‘closure’, no settled or intrinsic meaning in the world we inhabit.” Augustine’s semiotics warns Christians against the false closures of pride, “the end of desire,” and Platonist untrammelled ecstasy; his “learning from Scripture is a process—not a triumphant moment of penetration and mastery, but an extended play of invitation and exploration” (p. 142).
R. A. Markus, “Signs, Communication and Communities in Augustine’s De doctrina Christiana,” De doctrina Christiana: A Classic of Western Culture, ed. Duane W. H. Arnold and Pamela Bright, Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity 9 (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), p. 101, also describes the cessation of desire with mere earthly enjoyment as “premature closure of the Christian life, a denial of the restlessness in the depth of the human heart.” Other useful accounts of Augustine’s semiotics include R. A. Markus, “St. Augustine on Signs,” Augustine: A Collection of Critical Essays, pp. 61–91; B. Darrell Jackson, “The Theory of Signs in St. Augustine’s De Doctrina Christiana,” Augustine: A Collection of Critical Essays, pp. 92–147; the essays collected in De doctrina christiana: A Classic of Western Culture; and Cary, Outward Signs.
Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica, and Prudentius, Contra Orationem Symmachi, are notable exponents of this triumphalism. Although Augustine commissioned Orosius’s Historiarum Adversum Paganos, that work is primarily in the Eusebian tradition. See Markus, Conversion and Disenchantment, p. 38, for Augustine’s personal evolution away from his political triumphalism of the 390s, and Peter Brown, Authority and the Sacred: Aspects of the Christianisation of the Roman World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), pp. 3–26, for the early fifth century as a zone of competing Christian triumphalist and antitriumphalist historiographies.
Robert J. O’Connell, St Augustine’s Confessions: The Odyssey of Soul, 2nd ed. (New York: Fordham University Press, 1989), p. 54, sees in the Confessions “an Augustine whose eye was peering always [as storyteller] toward the philosophic haven of Cassiciacum, and past it, to the soaring heights of Ostia.”
See also Paul Henry, The Path to Transcendence: From Philosophy to Mysticism in Saint Augustine, The Pittsburgh Theological Monograph Series 37, trans. Francis F. Burch (Pittsburgh: Pickwick Press, 1981); originally La Vision d’Ostie, sa Place dans la Vie et L’oeuvre de Saint Augustin (Paris: Vrin, 1938), p. 11, and Stock, Augustine the Reader, p. 112.
Similarly, Colin Starnes, “Augustine’s Conversion and the Ninth Book of the Confessions,” Augustine: From Rhetor to Theologian, ed. Joanne McWilliam (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1992), pp. 59, 61, points out that, in contrast to the vision of book 7, physical details ground the experience of Ostia in bodily reality. Cary, Outward Signs, p. 12, describes Ostia as a conversation between Augustine and Monica; the experience itself, because it was shared, included its own mediation and interpretation through words. Vessey, “The Great Conference: Augustine and His Fellow Readers,” Augustine and the Bible, p. 65, holds the opposing view: that Ostia was a mystical, textless, hyper-Neoplatonic experience occurring in silence.
See Lewis Ayres, “Into the Poem of the Universe: Exempla, Conversion, and Church in Augustine’s Confessions,” Journal of Ancient Christianity 13 (2009), pp. 263–81, on the genre of the Confessions as exemplum more fundamentally than autobiography.
Annemaré Kotzé, Augustine’s Confessions: Communicative Purpose and Audience, Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 71 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), more fully expounds its protreptic nature.
See Todd Breyfogle, “Memory and Imagination in Augustine’s Confessions,” Literary Imagination, Ancient and Modern: Essays in Honor of David Grene, ed. Todd Breyfogle (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), pp. 137–54;
and Pamela Bright, “Singing the Psalms: Augustine and Athanasius on the Integration of the Self,” The Whole and the Divided Self ed. David E. Aune and John McCarthy (New York: Crossroad, 1997), pp. 118–22.
See, for example, Brown, Augustine of Hippo, p. 503; Charles Taylor, Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1989), pp. 127–42; and Cary, Augustine’s Invention of the Inner Self.
Werner Jaeger, Paideia: The Ideals of Greek Culture, 3 vols., trans. Gilbert Highet (New York: Oxford University Press, 1962–63).
Frances M. Young chronicles this appropriation throughout her Biblical Exegesis and the Formation of Christian Culture, although she emphasizes its effect on culture, not the self. Jaeger, Early Christianity and Greek Paideia (Cambridge, MA: Belknap, 1961), pp. 86–100, explicates Biblical self-formation in Gregory of Nyssa’s thought as an exercise in paideia.
Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), continues the story of the shift, until by Gregory I Roman culture had wholly converted to a strict Biblicism.
Christine Mason Sutherland, “Love as Rhetorical Principle: The Relationship between Content and Style in the Rhetoric of St. Augustine,” Grace, Politics and Desire: Essays on Augustine, ed. Hugo A. Meynell (Calgary: University of Calgary Press, 1990), pp. 140–4;
and Calvin Troup, Temporality, Eternity, and Wisdom: The Rhetoric of Augustine’s Confessions (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1999), pp. 1–10, argue that Augustine aims his criticisms of rhetoric at the subdiscipline of Second Sophistic rhetoric, giving him room to practice his own, redeemed version.
For further arguments that Augustine makes rhetoric a central part of his Christian vocation, see Marcia Colish, The Mirror of Language: A Study in the Medieval Theory of Knowledge, rev. ed. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1983);
Sarah Spence, Rhetorics of Reason and Desire (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1988), pp. 55–102; John C. Cavadini, “The Sweetness of the Word: Salvation and Rhetoric in Augustine’s De doctrina christiana,” De doctrina christiana: A Classic of Western Culture, pp. 164–81; and the essays collected in The Rhetoric of St. Augustine of Hippo: De Doctrina Christiana and the Search for a Distinctly Christian Rhetoric, Studies in Rhetoric and Religion 7, ed. Richard Leo Enos and Roger Thompson et al. (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2008), pp. 187–314.
Robert W. Bernard, “The Rhetoric of God in the Figurative Exegesis of Augustine,” Biblical Hermeneutics in Historical Perspective: Studies in Honor of Karlfried Froehlich on His Sixtieth Birthday, ed. Mark S. Burrows and Paul Rorem (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1991), pp. 88–99, suggests that for Augustine figurai reading was the titular divine rhetoric.
To Augustine, exegesis even of the literal sense of Genesis, characterized by questions and appeals to a wide range of interpretive approaches and authorities, functions to open and not close off meaning. See M. Fiedrowicz, “Introduction [to The Literal Meaning of Genesis],” trans. Matthew O’Connell, On Genesis: On Genesis: A Refutation of the Manichees, Unfinished Literal Commentary on Genesis, The Literal Meaning of Genesis, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century, vol. 13, ed. John E. Rotelle and trans. Edmund Hill, Augustinian Heritage Institute (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 2002), p. 165.
Charles T. Mathewes, “The Liberation of Questioning in Augustine’s Confessions,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 70 (2002), pp. 539–40. The entire article, pp. 539–60, is a wonderful reading of the Confessions as an open text, following the open invitation of its last word.
On Boethius’s influence in the Middle Ages, see Alastair Minnis, “Aspects of the Medieval French and English Traditions of Boethius’ De Consolatione Philosophiae,” in Boethius: His Life, Thought and Influence, ed. M. T. Gibson (Oxford: Blackwell, 1981), pp. 312–61;
The Medieval Boethius: Studies in the Vernacular Translations of De Consolatione Philosophiae, ed. A. J. Minnis (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1987);
Rita Copeland, Rhetoric, Hermeneutics, and Translation in the Middle Ages: Academic Traditions and Vernacular Texts, Cambridge Studies in Medieval Literature 11 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), pp. 151–78;
and Chaucer’s ‘Boece’ and the Medieval Tradition of Boethius, ed. A.J. Minnis, Chaucer Studies 18 (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1993).
On these commentaries, see the first three essays in Boethius in the Middle Ages: Latin and Vernacular Traditions of the Consolatio philosophiae, ed. Maarten J. F. M. Hoenen and Lodi Nauta, Studien und Texte zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittalalters 58 (Leiden: Brill, 1997).
This is fortunate, because, facing the closure of his own execution, Boethius could not return to history even if he had wanted to. Wendy Raudenbush Olmstead, “Philosophical Inquiry and Religious Transformation in Boethius’s The Consolation of Philosophy and Augustine’s Confessions,” The Journal of Religion 69 (1989), p. 35, identifies Boethius’s isolation and passivity as key distinctions between his situation and Augustine’s: Boethius’s “sphere of action is gone; his chance to effect the course of the world is gone.” Augustine in the Confessions, his church in the City of God, have a long way to go.
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Schrock, C.D. (2015). For the Time Being: Interpretive Consolation in Augustinian Time. In: Consolation in Medieval Narrative. The New Middle Ages. Palgrave Macmillan, New York. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137447814_2
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