Michael D. Bailey and Sean L. Field have put together an excellent collection of essays in their volume Late Medieval Heresy: New Perspectives, written in honor of the pioneering work of Robert E. Lerner by many of his own doctoral students. Typically, heresy studies have focused predominantly on the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and in particular on the Waldensians and Cathars, but as the prominence of these movements waned by the beginning of the fourteenth century, so too did scholarly interest and coverage. Moreover, when studies cover the fourteenth century, attention is usually paid to the Lollards and Hussites, but often by both distancing them from earlier medieval heresies and casting these later movements as precursors to the Reformation. Refreshingly, this volume evaluates fourteenth- and fifteenth-century heresy on its own merits and, in doing so, provides a necessary and useful study of this period. These essays have wide geographical and chronological breadth, from Paris to Naples and even Ethiopia, while ranging from 1308 right up to the outbreak of the Reformation in 1517—including an essay on some interesting twentieth-century German historiography.
Proceeding in a mostly chronological fashion, the chapters collectively explore a variety of heterodox movements, individuals, and even the transmission of texts, as well as ecclesiastical and royal institutional responses, all of which convincingly demonstrate the diversity of late medieval heterodoxy. Building on Lerner's contention that in many cases heresies were “created” in part by labeling formerly orthodox groups as heretics, the first chapter, by Sean L. Field, examines the intersection of heresy and politics by assessing the attempt by Philip IV to create a secular French inquisition as a tool to expand royal authority at the expense of the suddenly-heretical Templars. Field contends that, although successful in securing arrests and confessions in Paris, especially with the help of the inquisitor William of Paris, the results in the rest of the kingdom were uneven, in part due to the lack of both inquisitorial infrastructure and enthusiasm, and ultimately unsuccessful in creating a lasting French inquisition. Similarly, the political use of heresy is addressed by Georg Modestin, who chronicles Pope John XXII's four-year-long struggle with Louis of Bavaria. The pope likely wanted to condemn him for the political and military threat he posed but opted for a religious condemnation that emphasized heretical disobedience in the form of questioning the church's apostolic poverty, harboring condemned fugitives, and violating a papal interdict. Elizabeth Casteen's chapter also confronts the interplay between religion and politics in the case of Louis of Durazzo, who was ultimately tried not for rebelling against his own family in a bid to take over Naples but for aiding and abetting radical Franciscans in a strange case that saw Louis change from an ostensible defender of the faith to an ally and even adherent of the fraticelli.
Another theme some of the authors take up is textual analysis. For example, Sylvain Piron's chapter adeptly demonstrates that Barthélemy Sicard's Postilla super Danielem, which addresses Olivian themes such as tribulations, spiritual men, corrupt ecclesiastics, and an apocalyptic end date, was saved from destruction and preserved in several manuscripts throughout Italy and thus became influential in maintaining the identity and mission of a literate heretical group, the Spiritual Franciscans. The church's response to heresy is also taken up by Michael D. Bailey, who explores the similarities between the unorthodox mysticism of Marguerite Porete and the condemned magical rites of John of Morigny, who both relied on a form of divine inspiration or vision, firmly defended their beliefs in the face of ecclesiastical rebuke, and caused considerable concern among ecclesiastical authorities trying to determine the fine line between harmless devotion and dangerous dissent. The question of how to deal with challenges to church authority is examined by Frances Kneupper's analysis of a dispute over spiritual authority and knowledge (will Joachim of Fiore's Third Status arrive in 1471?) between Johannes of Dorsten, who argued that professional training, titles, and traditional authorities were the only valid qualifications, and the heretical Wirsberger brothers, who argued that, in fact, it was precisely the learned theologians who falsely interpreted scripture, likely because they were enthralled by the Antichrist.
One chapter that stood out among an entire volume of exemplary essays is Louisa A. Burnham's microhistorical study of the motivation and heresiology of one individual, Limoux Negre, using him as an example of a heretic that did not easily fit into clearly-defined categories. As Burnham notes, Limoux provides an interesting case study precisely because he was not part of a heretical movement nor did he himself become the founder of one. Moreover, unlike other heresiarchs, Limoux's beliefs were often wildly contradictory (as an example: Jesus was simultaneously too pure for the material world but also somehow a sinful murderer and adulterer whose crucifixion was his own penance) and stemmed from personal revelation as opposed to Biblical exegesis. Burnham also convincingly argues that Limoux's views of Creation and the Resurrection may have in fact come from his likely background in alchemy and thus informed what he saw as rational, though quite creative, explanations for these events. It is also precisely these varied and often inconsistent beliefs that allow historians to render a more complete perspective of medieval heresy.
In sum, this volume is a welcome addition to the study of heterodoxy in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries that shines new and much-needed light on a period that has often been treated as little more than an afterthought to the more widely known heresies of the previous two centuries or a precursor to the Reformation.
