Irish Monks Research Articles

Religious Orders' Impact on Medieval Europe: Origins, Influence, and Significance: A Literature Review

In summary, this literature review has offered a comprehensive exploration of the origins and evolution of medieval religious orders. We've traced the pioneering efforts of figures such as the Desert Fathers and Irish monks, who embarked on radical ascetic experiments. From these early efforts, coenobitic rules emerged, providing structured frameworks for religious life. Notably, the Rule of Benedict played a pivotal role in balancing prayer, labor, study, and moderation. The advent of mendicant orders marked a revival of religious fervor through their commitment to poverty, mobility, and dynamic preaching. The rapid expansion of religious orders was made possible by elite patronage, facilitating their spread across Europe. These orders left indelible marks on education, politics, and culture, shaping medieval life. Religious figures assumed prominent roles as counselors to rulers, influential doctrinal shapers, and builders of educational institutions. By synthesizing scholarship, this review illuminates the multifaceted journey of medieval religious orders, from their humble beginnings to their profound impact on European civilization. It underscores their significance and lays the groundwork for further research on their enduring roles.

Flemish Immigration and Geoffrey of Monmouth's De gestis Britonum

Flemish Immigration and Geoffrey of Monmouth's <i>De gestis Britonum</i>

The Rhetorical Arts in Late Antique and Early Medieval Ireland, by Brian James Stone

The Rhetorical Arts in Late Antique and Early Medieval Ireland, by Brian James Stone

Celtic Saints and Animal Stories: A Spiritual Kinship

In Celtic Saints and Animal Stories, Edward C. Sellner weaves together various known, and many less well-known, stories of animals in the hagiographies of the Celtic saints. His goal is to illuminate the relationships, what he terms a “spiritual kinship” between the saints and animals. Sellner's work will find an audience with those interested in theology and the Celtic saints in general. But it has a wider appeal to those interested in animals and spirituality. Written in a popular, rather than an academic, tone, it is full of enchanting stories of the lives of saints and animals to delight well beyond an academic audience.This short work is divided into three sections: a comprehensive introduction, the stories of the saints, and a conclusion. The introduction situates the stories within the Celtic worldview and explores the ancient Celts’ connection with animals. Sellner introduces the reader to the world of mystics and storytelling as foundational to Celtic Christianity.The stories of the saints are divided into sections on “The Holy Trinity of Celtic Saints,” who are Patrick of Armagh, Brigit of Kildare, and Columcille of Iona, and another section on “And the Others,” the others being the largest part of the book, covering 17 saints. Each piece on a saint begins with a summary of biographical details and their feast day, before Sellner selects a few examples of the saint's relationship to animals. For example, in his treatment of St. David of Wales, Sellner focuses on the prophecy of his greatness and how it was linked to “a stag, fish, and a hive of bees” (p. 60). Most noteworthy, David founded a monastery where no animals were used for labor, and the monks kept a simple vegetarian diet. That the Patron Saint of Wales led a vegetarian monastery may come as a surprise to many, but this is just one of the interesting stories in this insightful book.While some saints seem to have closer connections to animals than others, and some are more proactive in their protection of animals—Kevin of Glendalough, for example, saves a free-living boar from hunters (p. 77)—the stories as a whole illustrate a culture of concern for animals within the Celtic Christian tradition. Sellner argues that the impact of the Celtic saints is much more extensive than might be assumed. For example, he traces the spiritual kinship with animals through not just the Celtic lands, but through monasteries administered by Irish monks, such that this attitude to animals is seen in the lives of Hildegard of Bingen, St. Disibod, and St. Francis of Assisi, who grew up in the part of Italy where Christianity was brought by St. Columban (pp. 93–94). Columban apparently went into the forest to pray and called the animals to him, and the animals would accompany him in his devotions (p. 54).The central argument of the book is that the Celtic saints exemplify a spiritual kinship with animals. Gently but profoundly, he demonstrates how a closer union with God ought to result in a greater communion with God's other creatures. The relationship between the saints and animals is one of reciprocity “that transcends species-differences so that all benefit in the circle of life. Kindness, compassion, loving respect on the part of the saints elicits from their creature-partners trust, caring, and love—which in turn increases the happiness of everyone” (p. 96). Sellner concludes with reflections upon what this kinship might mean in terms of our ethical treatment of animals. He suggests that “Patrick's protection of innocent deer . . . might challenge those who consider hunting ordinary” and that “from Brigit's concern for a terror-stricken boar and a flock of wild ducks, we might consider how animals are treated today in labs and factory farms” (p. 97). The ethical questioning is posed in the same gentle, spiritual tone as the rest of the book, and as such, Sellner mostly leaves it to the stories of the saints to enlighten rather than expound on the moral treatment of animals.In short, Sellner's book is a delightful look at the world of Celtic saints and animals, shining a light on some of the positive, overlooked narratives about animals found within the Christian tradition. It is an excellent primer to the riches of animal-friendly spirituality.

Pangur Bán, Translation, Postmodernism, Paul Muldoon

«Pangur Bán» is probably the best know poem in Celtic studies, and a poem that tends to become increasingly more popular to audiences outside of Ireland. However, the anonymous, medieval poem has been cherished throughout history for a wide range of poetic, philosophical, intellectual and educational reasons. To inquire into the longevity and popularity of a marginal gloss on his cat by an Irish monk in a German monastery in the ninth century seems appropriate at a time when contemporary literature and applied hermeneutics of all kinds tend to dominate the literary discourses. This essay relates the historical poem to its many translations, for example by Paul Muldoon and Seamus Heaney, and current literary discourses. Why has this enigmatic jeu d’esprit been translated so frequently and why are these translations important? This essay argues that «Anonymous: Myself and Pangur», Muldoon’s version of «Pangur Bán», can be read as a prismatic poem for postmodernist concerns, in his own poetry and in recent theories.

The Voyage of St Brendan by A. B. Jackson

Reviewed by: The Voyage of St Brendan by A. B. Jackson Jameson D. K. Lawwson The Voyage of St Brendan, by A. B. Jackson (Hexham, Northumberland: Bloodaxe Books, 2021, 80 p., paperback, $16.95) The Voyage of St Brendan follows the oceanic wanderings of the Irish monk St. Brendan, who, tasked by a higher power to repent after burning a book of fantastical tales, sets out to broaden his horizons and experience wonders the real world might have on offer. Along with six other monks, he assembles a traditional Irish ship called a currach and sets sail. On this voyage, Brendan experiences a plethora of things: a genteel whale with a forest on its back, sea serpents, hellfires, cast-aside angels in purgatory-paradise, and his own unceremonious-unsanctified-quiet death. In a well-crafted reimagining of this Irish tale, A. B. Jackson predominantly works with a fourteenth-century Middle Dutch version, originally translated from Old Irish. The book begins with the monk's folly: enjoyment of a book, which Brendan self-scorns with a measure of hefty Christian guilt, which forces him to disparage its contents. In a dream, an angel-messenger arrives to correct him: the contents of the book were in fact true. From there begins Brendan's journey to discover the honest and wonderful things available in the world. His worldview, and by extension his faith, is expanded wildly by his years on the sea, where witness is borne to mermaids and sirens, where temptations are resisted and succumbed to, where demons are surprisingly convivial. Jackson's work re-creates a variety of poetic form constraints from Irish history, paying homage to older works of Irish poetry. Jackson also includes elements of prosimetrum, the practice of offering sections of reflective prose to break up the poetry, hearkening to Irish epics like Táin Bó Cúailnge. The poetry within the collection, reminiscent of classic adventure narratives but still wholly adult and scholastic, serves the story well. Jackson preserves a sense of wonder that will delight readers new to the tale and reignite a passion for the journey in those already familiar. The quick-sharp poetry does not linger any longer than is welcome, the flitting from location to location is perfectly served by the author's careful hand, and the respect given to each incident places the reader deeply and firmly within the moment. While the poetry of the piece only runs from pages fourteen to fifty-six, the experience of Brendan's full journey is not lost or hastened beyond what is reasonable. The intricate lacing of facets of the journey appear as quick anecdotes, each incident a vignette of Brendan's thoughts and experiences regarding every interaction with the now-wondrous world. The stitching in of prose, as Jackson himself admits post-script, reminds the reader of the connection to epic poetry beyond the implications of the immram style and the ever-present comparison to Mael Duinn. The use of prosimetrum, while not necessarily a strict adherence to its traditional appearances in epic poetry and other earlier Irish works, is a [End Page 144] welcome addition to the tale's fluidity, breaking up the poetic verses and maintaining a narrative speed consistent with the content. The prose poem–esque sections, which number ten in total, are typically of moderate length and imitate the styles of the poetic verse well. The bulk of the collection takes the form of shorter, stanza-style verses, predominantly in quatrain. Jackson works with different old-style Irish meters and the classic ABCB quatrain to differentiate his version from the Middle Dutch one that served as his inspiration. The distinct and deliberate step away from the epic draws attention from the confines of the heroic couplet and the imposing bulk of the long poem. The movement away from heroic and epic conventions frees up space for interpretations and allows Jackson a considerable degree of creativity in manipulating form and content. Beyond the constraint of heroic couplets, Brendan's voyage is presented in the present tense; in this current-moment approach the reflective presence of the epic past is left by the wayside, removing the fantasy veil of separation expected of...

‘You Collared a Maiden Young Ireland in this House’: The Patriotism of Dom Francis Sweetman and His School – Mount St Benedict, Gorey, Co. Wexford

‘What you in England call “politics” we call “patriotism”’ Dom John ‘Francis’ Sweetman (1872–1953) replied in 1919 to the Abbot of Downside’s reminder that he had previously been instructed ‘not to take public part in politics’. Although Sweetman complied with Cuthbert Butler’s order to resign from the executive of the North Wexford Sinn Fein, his ongoing ‘patriotism’ continued to cause problems for the Irish monk and his English monastery. In 1925, following a succession of complaints to Rome by the Bishop of Ferns which included the charge Sweetman had ‘organised and encouraged military activities against the Free State Government’, Downside closed his school. This paper provides an account of how the 1916 Easter Rising affected Sweetman and his school, describes how Sweetman’s political activities affected Downside’s plan to establish an English Benedictine monastery in Ireland and, examines his involvement in the Irish War of Independence and Civil War.

Beehives on the border: Liminal humans and other animals at Skellig Michael

In the early middle ages, a community of Irish monks constructed a monastery outpost on the lonely Skellig Michael just offshore of County Kerry. These skelligs served as a mysterious boundary land where the known met the unknown, the worldly wrangled with the spiritual, and the very parameters of humanity itself were brought into question. Amid a period of great transition in Irish society, the monks willfully abandoned the luxuries of developing Western civilization on the mainland (and on the continent more broadly) to test their endurance through religious asceticism on a craggy island more suitable to birds than bipeds. This article reimagines the Skellig Michael experiment as a liminal space, one that troubles premodern efforts to disassociate from animality in an era when “human” and “animal” were malleable concepts. As Western society transitioned from animist paganism to anthropocentric Christianity and Norman colonial control, the Skellig Michael outpost (which survived into the 1300s) offered a point of permeability that invites a critical rethinking of early Irish custom. This article applies theories of liminality and Critical Animal studies to address the making of “human” and “animal” in the march to “civilization,” arguing that species demarcation and the establishment of anthroparchy has been central to the process.

Dicuil (9th century) on triangular and square numbers

Dicuil was a ninth-century Irish monk who taught at the Carolingian school of Louis the Pious. He wrote a Computus or astronomical treatise in Latin in about 814–16, which contains a chapter on triangular and square numbers. Dicuil describes two methods for calculating triangular numbers: the simple method of summing the natural numbers, and the more complex method of multiplication, equivalent to the formula n(n + 1)/2. He also states that a square number is equal to twice a triangular number minus the generating number, equivalent to n2 = 2[n(n + 1)/2] – n. The multiplication formula for triangular numbers was first explicitly described in about the third century AD by the Greek authors Diophantus and Iamblichus. It was also known as a solution to other mathematical problems as early as 300 BC. It reappeared in the West in the sixteenth century. Dicuil thus fills a gap in our medieval knowledge.

Religious Thought in the Early Seventh Century as reflected in the Visio Fursei

The Vita of the Irish monk Fursa (composed c. 656/7) is focused on the account of the saint’s vision. He experiences an otherworldly journey that is marked by a dispute between angels and devils ab...

Was Philargyrius a Christian?

The Christian interpretation of Virgil’s fourth eclogue is commonly assumed to have been adopted in late antiquity by Philargyrius in his commentary to the Bucolics. A closer examination of the texts shows that the Christian interpretation was added to Philargyrius’s exegesis by the Irish monks who compiled the two Explanations and the Scholia Bernensia to the Bucolics.

TEKSTY HIERONIMA, SEDULIUSZA SZKOTA I BEDY CZCIGODNEGO W BIBLIJNYCH KODEKSACH PŁOCKICH I NADMOZAŃSKICH Z XII W. PRÓBA PORÓWNANIA

This article is on the comparison of two biblical manuscripts of the twelfth century from Plock, namely the so-called Bible of Plock and Evangeliar of Princess Anastasia with two Mosan biblical manuscripts: Evangeliar of Averbode and the Biblia Universa transcribed in the same period. The first three texts: Beatissimo Papae Damaso (Novum opus), Prologus quatuor evangeliorum (Plures fuisse) and Iheronimus Damaso Pape (Sciendum etiam) – the last one is not in the Bible of Plock - and Evangeliar of Princess Anastasia are of St. Jerome. In contrast, the introduction to the Synoptic Gospels: Argumentum secundum Matheum, Prologus in Marco and Prologus sancti Evangelii secundum Lucam are not the texts of St. Jerome, as is sometimes mistakenly repeated by different scholars, but belong to Sedulius Scottus, an Irish monk and poet who lived and worked in a school in Leodium in the ninth century, and the introduction to the Gospel of John: Prephatio in Evangelium secundum Iohannem was written by Bede the Venerable. While the texts of Jerome were quite commonly used in biblical medieval manuscripts, the fact that the introductions to the Synoptic Gospels are written by Sedulius Scottus and are present in both the Bible of Plock as well as partially in Evangeliar of Princess Anastasia is a very strong argument for the Mosan origin of the biblical manuscripts of Plock from the twelfth century. Comparative analysis of the texts themselves clearly leads to several important conclusions. First, the Bible of Plock and Evangeliar of Princess Anastasia are closer to the version of the text preserved in the Biblia Universa, a codex written in the monastery of Sancti Trudonis, than to Evangeliar of Averbode. It follows that the sources for the biblical manuscripts of Plock from the twelfth century should be searched at Mosan Benedictine monasteries, perhaps in the very monastery Sancti Trudonis near Liège. Second, the Gospel of Mark generally follows the version of the text preserved in the Biblia Universa and the Bible of Plock but not all the time. It should therefore be hoped that further comparative studies, especially the version of the biblical text, would confirm this relationship and will help determine whether the codex was written in the Mosan region or is a copy of the Bible of Plock made on the spot. Thirdly, and this is an extremely interesting proposal, Evangeliar of Princess Anastasia, not counting minor copyist changes like the conversion of - tium to - cium, is very much dependent on the Bible of Plock. If, as it is confirmed by records of the miracles, the Bible was already in Plock in 1148 or before that date, it is very likely that Evangeliar of Princess Anastasia, would be a copy of the text made on the spot in a local Plock scriptorium as a foundation of Boleslaw Kedzierzawy and a votive offering for the salvation of his deceased wife Anastasia. The codex would therefore arise after her death, dating back to the year 1158 in Plock in the time of Bishop Werner and would not have been brought by him following his trip to Aachen.These conclusions, for obvious reasons, are only preliminary, as comparsion of the texts are not fully detailed and fuller conclusions will be presented only after benchmarking a version of the biblical text of the four Gospels.

The Monastic Lifeworld: Memories and Narratives of Landscapes of Early Medieval Monasticism in Argyll, Scotland

ABSTRACTDespite being heavily criticised by archaeologists, phenomenology and Husserl’s concept of lifeworld to denote the collective sensory world of a group of humans arguably have the potential to uncover valuable information on past experiential landscapes. Drawing on a variety of sources, this paper explores the extent to which phenomenology can be used in early medieval monastic archaeological research. It focuses on the lifeworld of Irish monks that is expressed in the hagiography Vita Columbae, by Adomnán (d.704), which depicts orally transmitted landscape experiences and memories. These literary traces of a lifeworld are conflated with the physical landscape and archaeological evidence in a case study set in Argyll in western Scotland. It is argued that the location of monasteries was partly determined by the spiritual memories and religious experiences of the landscape, and that the spiritually memorised topographies were connected to certain emotions that the monks experienced daily and which they used to shape their mental landscapes of. By addressing the lifeworld in hagiographies, we may gain further insight into the mental maps of monks, and into their religious lives and movements in the landscape, which provides an alternative and fruitful approach towards medieval monastic landscapes.

From Reformation to Transformation: The "Age of Global Dialogue"

From Reformation to Transformation:The "Age of Global Dialogue"* Leonard Swidler Five hundred years ago, on October 31, 1517, the Western world in the person of Martin Luther started on the road of Christendom's Reformation, which has led to today's unforeseen and amazing global transformation: the "Age of Global Dialogue."1 I want to look briefly at what happened back then, where we are today, and how we got from there to here. Then, we can ask ourselves what lessons might lie in this history for us today—and tomorrow. Many critical events took place around the portentous year 1517. Just twenty-five years before Luther supposedly banged his ninety-five theses on the door of the church in Wittenberg, Western Europe in 1492 in the person of Christopher Columbus discovered a whole hemisphere, and just five years after Luther's reformatory action, Ferdinand Magellan sailed around the world in 1522, definitively proving it not flat, but a globe. The year 1517 marked both the end of the Catholic Church "reform efforts" by the pope and the beginning of the "Reformation." Just five years earlier, in 1512, Pope Julius II called the Fifth Lateran Council (1512–17) in Rome to undertake a badly needed reform of the Catholic Church. Toward its end, two Augustinian monks submitted, and struggled mightily for, a comprehensive reform program for the Church. Tragically, in the end, it was not adopted. [End Page 479] Later in 1517, another Augustinian monk, Martin Luther, launched what has become known as the "Protestant Reformation." Among other immediate results, it splintered the Catholic Church of central and eastern Europe into multiple sects and spilled open massive sluices of blood and gore for the next nearly century and a half, finally just beginning to slow and coagulate only with the 1648 Treaty of Westphalia. Of course, Luther had no such intention in mind. He was a very serious, relatively moderate product of the fourteenth–fifteenth-century religious Renaissance, which, among other things, had produced the recovery of the knowledge of Hebrew and Greek, leading to a much deeper understanding of the Bible (both testaments of which Luther eventually masterfully translated into German). That scholarly advance, plus the increasing availability of inexpensive Bibles—thanks to the new printing technology of Johannes Gutenberg (1554)—made the Bible of greater importance than ever before. Luther focused on this advance by beginning to answer the constant question: How do we as Christians know what to believe? His response was not by the customary Traditio, tradition, or by the Magisterium, the teaching authority, the pope, but by sola scriptura, "by scripture alone." For Luther, and his many colleagues, sola scriptura was not the only "sola." He also asked the question: How am I saved? Such a question might sound a little strange in our twenty-first-century secular age, but it was an overpowering question for Luther and many others. In fact, he was quite overwhelmed by it, thinking that even the good deeds he performed, such as prayer, almsgiving, etc., were ultimately sinful, for he feared that he might ultimately be doing them to "avoid hell and gain heaven"—rather than purely because they were good. As an Augustinian monk, he agonized endlessly over this—doubtless drawn into this spiritual abyss by the writings of his order's namesake, St. Augustine, who had a titanic spiritual battle with the Irish monk Pelagius over whether humans freely chose to do good or evil or were predetermined by God. Pelagius argued that, of course, we humans freely choose good or evil and appropriately earn favor or punishment, heaven or hell. Augustine, on the other hand, argued—and drew the great swath of subsequent Western Christians along with him in this teaching—that humans ultimately did not have free will; rather, God determined from all eternity that certain persons would perform morally good acts, and others would perform evil [End Page 480] actions. The former, God determined, would thereby go to heaven, and the latter, the great mass of humans—"massa damnata" was the term he used—were predestined by God for eternal agony in hell. It was with this towering doctrine of inherited fear that...

Columba at Keil Point

Until recently, it has been taken on faith that Columba, the sixth-century Irish monk, landed at Keil Point, Kintyre, in Argyll in 563AD on his way to Iona. Truth or otherwise, historians have perpetuated this myth, which was later championed by the tourism industry. This article will investigate the archaeological remains at Keil Point that have been used to support the claim that Columba was once there, and attempt to uncover the truth behind this claim. It will be argued that there is no archaeological evidence or written historical record in support of the myth. It will also be argued that the domination of the Columba myth is effectively suppressing other aspects of Scottish history. This investigation demonstrates how accepted history can be challenged by archaeological evidence.

Western missionaries on the Ukrainian territory in middle ages: religious, cultural and diplomatic contacts

A Ukrainian historian of Canadian origin, Yuriy Tys-Krokhmalyuk, highlighting the pages of the early missionary history of the Irish monasticism, states that about 600 g. They from the territory of Western Europe went further to the East, reaching the land of the Antes and Kiev. In this regard, the researcher expresses the following opinion: "It is not known whether the Irish monks were the first on our (Ukrainian - B. B.) land. Apparently not, because they were not the first either in Burgundy, nor in France, nor in Switzerland. It was at that time that the Roman cultural center grew up, and between these two centers - the Gellensky (Gallic - B. B.) and the Roman - there was a misunderstanding in the competition for influence. Irish monks, coming to our lands, apparently intended to spread the Gaelic spirit in theology and science. Times have changed: there were those when the Gellian culture developed freely, but there were also those that were in the spread of difficulties and obstacles. Then Irish monks were looking for new peaceful centers for their activities "

Młodość i wychowanie świętego Kolumbana Starszego

Early Medieval Ireland was a scene of intense activity of numerous clergymen, whose life hugely influenced Irish history. Some of these figures are commemorated in an extensive textual legacy − usually in the form of legends or hagiographic works. One of such persons is Saint Columba − an Irish monk living in the 6th century. The oldest text about the history of his life, Vita Sancti Columbae, composed by Adamnan, brings valuable information about the abbot's life. This literary resource constitutes vital research material as it offers an insight, among other things, into the image of the Iro-Scottish ideal of sanctity, as exemplified by the profile of the main protagonist. Columba's exceptional traits manifested themselves already in his youth − or in his prenatal stage, to be precise. Vita contains a lot of examples to prove the magnificence of the monk. The majority of the descriptions contained in the book display features that are typical of this kind of literary source. These typical motives include prophecies as for future acts of the saint-protagonist, description of the miracles he performed and of the education he obtained in a number of monastic communities. Irish monks experienced an enormous need to pursue their intellectual peregrinatio in order to shape their spirituality. The example of the story of Saint Columba's youth can be used to highlight the textual elements that were fundamental in depicting the protagonist in a hagiographic text.

Revisión del mito geográfico de San Borondón y aproximación a su huella en la literatura y otras artes

Since in the sixth century Irish monk St. Brendan forged the myth of San Borondon, this imaginary territory has been part of hundreds of stories of travelers and different artistic expressions. In this paper we will make a tour of its origin and the speeches of travelers because, especially between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries, they helped to social consolidation of this mysterious island of Canary Islands. In addition, we will study how the myth was reflected in Spanish literary works from different genres as well as other types of artistic representations, such as music.

Repentance in Late Antiquity: Eastern Asceticism and the Framing of the Christian Life c. 400–650 CE by Alexis Torrance (review)

Reviewed by: Repentance in Late Antiquity: Eastern Asceticism and the Framing of the Christian Life c. 400–650 CE by Alexis Torrance Kevin Uhalde Repentance in Late Antiquity: Eastern Asceticism and the Framing of the Christian Life c. 400–650 ce Alexis Torrance Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Pp. ix + 244. ISBN 978–0-19–966536–5. For some time now, a sizeable chorus of scholars has called for a New History of Penance (the title of a recent essay collection), including a revision of how we understand the development of Christian penance during late antiquity. It is in this earlier period, compared with work on medieval and Reformation-era penance, that so far more fault-finding than reconstruction has been accomplished. A number of historians, for example, including this reviewer, have voiced their doubts over whether a sudden decline in public penance during the fifth and sixth centuries created a “void,” as Cyrille Vogel once wrote, that Irish monks fortuitously filled with private forms of penance. But if not the fall of one and the rise of another form of penance, what sort of narrative can describe the evident change between ancient and medieval penance? The skepticism of at least one historian, writing recently in the premier issue of Journal of Medieval Monastic Studies, has some justification, when she expresses her unease over how “the penitential landscape has appeared to flatten out.” But not for long. By challenging the virtually unchallenged dichotomy between lay penance and monastic repentance, searching back in time for the sources of penitential thought, and successfully avoiding the pull of medieval and modern categories of interpretation, Alexis Torrance shows us how rich and varied the historical terrain of penance might become. In his well-written and highly original study, Torrance does far more than analyze the penitential theology of four major contributors to Greek monastic literature (although this alone would have made a significant contribution). Rather, he also provides scholars an effective framework for interpreting penitential language in early Christian literature and the role of repentance in late antique culture generally. What is more, he demonstrates how his framework works, in two chapters surveying the history of repentance from the Septuagint to John Chrysostom. Including as well a concise, up-to-date review of scholarship in the introductory chapter, the first half of the book is essential reading for anyone interested in the culture of repentance or the origins of penance (i.e., the liturgy or sacrament). The first half also lays the groundwork for the following three case studies, focused on the Greek monastic writers just alluded to: Mark the Monk, Barsanuphius and John of Gaza, and John Climacus. From his careful reading of [End Page 196] these authors, Torrance identifies related but separable aspects of repentance, with which he constructs a “threefold framework” for understanding a total concept of repentance, one which he proposes to have been deeply rooted, long-lived, and influential. The strength of this interpretative framework grows apparent over the course of the book, as with something like magnetic force it is used to attract supporting evidence from a range of sources, and as its rather simple taxonomy coheres into the substantive parts of a penitential process, something an ancient person might actually have experienced, as well as expounded upon and extolled to others. First, according to Torrance’s progressive model, initial repentance marked the moment when people made a conscious break from a sinful, ignorant life and began anew, through either baptism in the case of new believers, or ecclesiastical penance in the case of strayed believers. Thenceforth, a life of existential repentance entailed an ongoing process of humility, correction, and atonement that could work for the salvation, not only of the penitent subjects themselves, but ultimately and ideally for others vicariously—what Torrance calls Christ-like repentance. As useful as his framework proves to be, it is important to remember, as Torrance himself reminds us, that it is a device he has constructed—not that late antique authors did not think in similar terms or favor tripartite distinctions. Texts as early as The Shepherd of Hermas (pp. 71–72) emphasized the continual nature of repentance, punctuated...

The commons, the Battle of the Book and the cracked enclosures of academic publishing

Contention about the ownership of texts and what we now know as copyright stretches back to at least the sixth century and the controversial copying of a biblical script by the Irish monk Colm Cille that resulted in the Battle of the Book. This article traces how my co- editors and I stumbled into this ongoing battle in our efforts to ensure this Supplement to the Community Development Journal on the commons would be freely available on the knowledge commons. Describing our search for cracks in the pay walls that commodify and enclose much publicly subsidised research that should be common knowledge, paradoxes in the current drive in academic publishing towards Open Access are considered, including its potential closing down of the publication of non-funded independent research.