Introduction
Few concepts have been as broadly used as that of didactic literature. Today, didactic literature includes a considerable number of texts intended to reach a targeted audience in a systematic way, often in the form of a handbook, an encyclopedia, or a reference book. It has also been acknowledged that there are multiple methods of teaching with the help of specialized texts which vary with specific periods of time, places, and purposes.Footnote 1 For its part, Byzantine literature offers an abundance of didactic texts, allowing us to explore how ideas and contents of teaching changed across centuries. It also offers the opportunity to explore the purposes and functions of various types of didactic writing because, along with the various technical handbooks inherited from antiquity and copied in Byzantium, many authors produced texts aimed at changing the conduct, the beliefs, or the worldview of their recipients.
One such author was Joseph Bryennios (c.1350-c.1422) whose personality has often been associated with intense preaching activities both in Constantinople as well as on the islands of Crete and Cyprus.Footnote 2 Author of a large number of homilies and court orations, Bryennios acquired the fame of an inflexible moralist with a keen eye for moral decay and social justice during a period of accelerating political decline.Footnote 3 Moreover, since he held the position of court preacher in Constantinople for a long period of time, scholars regarded his uncompromising views as being indicative of an approach typical of the late Byzantine ecclesiastical circles.Footnote 4 Nevertheless, this image of a churchman with rigid doctrinal and political views holds certain limitations. His extant epistolary collection allows us a glimpse into his intellectual background which was not much different from that of other lay contemporary scholars. He owned a substantial book collectionFootnote 5 and had close connections with important scholars such as Demetrios Kydones, Maximos Chrysoberges, and Manuel Kalekas, the most prominent pro-Latin Byzantines of the time.Footnote 6 He was also close to the Emperor Manuel II Palaiologos (r. 1391–1425), also an accomplished rhetorician, who appreciated Bryennios’ rhetorical skillsFootnote 7 and who, at the beginning of the fifteenth century, appointed him as court preacher.Footnote 8 From this position, he composed a great many texts among which we find homilies and several polemical orations on political issues or against the Church union.Footnote 9
Despite Bryennios’ multitude of works of spiritual or moral instruction, his didactic texts remain largely unexplored. One of his compositions cast in the form of a collection of kephalaia and titled Forty-Nine Chapters (Κεφάλαια ἑπτάκις ἑπτά)Footnote 10 is an early example of his moral didacticism.Footnote 11 Dating from the early fifteenth century, the Forty-Nine Chapters arose out of his pastoral activities in Crete, where he spent twenty years between 1382 and 1402.Footnote 12 The importance of the text within Bryennios’ oeuvre can hardly be overestimated. H. Bazini correctly argued that the Chapters enjoyed a certain popularity as attested by its multiple manuscripts and that it represented ‘l'oeuvre la plus typique de la prédication de Joseph Bryennios aux Crétois.’Footnote 13 Indeed, the Chapters encapsulates the author's teaching on Christian cosmology coupled with a comprehensive set of pieces of practical advice for use in daily life. It was this latter feature that attracted the attention of historians, who pointed out that the Chapters contains unique evidence about widespread social practices in late Byzantium.Footnote 14 Indeed, several passages offer a detailed picture of the Cretans’ behavior and alleged wrongdoings such as irregularities in religious service, their frequent blasphemies, or immorality.Footnote 15
It has also been noted that the Forty-Nine Chapters provides valuable information about the chronology of Bryennios’ vast oeuvre. N. Tomadakes and N. Ioannides discussed the historical context of the text and concluded that the composition dates from the first years after Bryennios had been expelled from Crete (1402) on account of his criticism against the local monastic community.Footnote 16 More recently, H. Bazini studied the complex manuscript transmission of the text and convincingly demonstrated that the Forty Nine Chapters belong to a so-called Cretan Corpus distinct from Bryennios’ Constantinopolitan works which consisted mainly of his homilies and texts performed at Manuel II's court (c. 1404-c. 1420).Footnote 17 This Corpus (Συγγράμματα πρὸς τοὺς Κρῆτας) included eleven additional texts (farewell speeches, polemical treatises, and festal homilies) and seventeen letters.Footnote 18 It was preceded by a general introduction (προθεωρία) and was intended for the moral and spiritual edification of the author's former community.Footnote 19 While Bryennios wrote most of the compositions making up this Corpus during his stay in Crete, the Forty-Nine Chapters were put together after he arrived in Constantinople in 1402. The autograph manuscript containing the entire collection of texts dates from 1406 when Bryennios collected all the texts connected to his Cretan experience and sent them to his friend Alexios Apokaukos, a painter residing in Crete.Footnote 20
Building upon the previous research into the author's biography and the textual history of the Cretan corpus, the present article will shift attention away from the contexts of production towards aspects of literary composition and rhetorical-didactic strategies. These insights and the exploration of Bryennios’ rhetorical models will reveal the author's reinterpretation of the genre of moralizing chapters as well as his intention to connect with the Constantinopolitan court-based scholarly networks of his time. The study will be conducted in several steps: first, we will examine the text's compositional structure, which can be traced back to the tradition of Byzantine chapter literature; second, we will examine several typical examples of late Byzantine chapter collections which illustrate the use of key themes and rhetorical devices therein; third, we will observe Bryennios’ didactic content, authorial stance, and strategies whereby he departs from his contemporary models; and finally, we will consider the functions of the Forty-Nine Chapters in the late Byzantine intellectual contexts.
The Forty-Nine Chapters: purpose, composition, models
In the preface of the Cretan Corpus, Bryennios alludes to the function and sources of the entire corpus, including the Forty-Nine Chapters. He modestly states that, at the request of his friends and familiars in Crete, he gathered several disparate notes that he used during the composition of his homilies and addresses which he delivered inside or outside the church:
ἐμοὶ πολλοὶ πολλάκις φίλοι τε καὶ οἰκεῖοι, ὡς μέγα τι καὶ ἓν τῶν χρησίμων ᾐτήσαντο, ἃ διὰ γλώττης ἐν Ἐκκλησίᾳ, καὶ ταῖς κοιναῖς Διαλέξεσιν ἐνίοτε τοῖς ἅπασι προυτιθέμην ἐπ᾿ὠφελείᾳ ταῦτα δὴ συγγραψάμενον χαρίσασθαι […] βραχύτατόν τι μέρος τῶν λαληθέντων ἀποτεμών καὶ ὅσον ἡ μνήμη παρακατέσχεν, ἐνταῦθα συνέταξα.
Often, many friends and familiars have asked me, as if it was something important and useful, to offer them in a written composition the speeches which I have delivered orally in the church or sometimes in ordinary conversations for the benefit of all. […] Having selected a very small part of my words and inasmuch as my memory permitted, I organized (this material) here.Footnote 21
Nevertheless, despite Bryennios’ silence about the textual design of the composition, the Forty-Nine Chapters presents an elaborate architecture emerging from the author's rhetoric and underlying didactic intentions. Most chapters are gathered into thematic clusters and follow an order that eventually leads to the presentation of the highest virtue needed for spiritual perfection, mercy (ἐλεημοσύνη). Bryennios’ themes bear the influence of Byzantine theological tradition as well as of the intense debates with the supporters of Latin scholasticism.Footnote 22 The first section (chs. 1–12) discusses the means and steps of acquiring knowledge regarding the divine sphere: the initial appeal to the five senses, the use of the intellectual faculties, and the understanding of the divine word, the Scriptures. Then, in chapters 13–28, he proceeds to the representation of divine creation and explains how this is reflected in the physical world (κόσμος).Footnote 23 In the ensuing section (chs. 29–39), Bryennios offers a description of instances in human life and of its inherent spiritual character. Having set the stage of his main didactic matter, Bryennios turns to present the sins of the Cretan community (ch. 47) and eventually to their antidotes, several specific virtues.
This ordered structure echoes similar features present in the Byzantine literary tradition of moralizing texts divided into chapters and clustered around themes of ethics. As a matter of fact, the very title of the text ‘Seven-times-seven chapters’, that is Forty-Nine Chapters, suggests the author's intention to attach himself to the tradition of moralizing kephalaia. Frequently, such collections of moral chapters were divided into a fixed and symbolic number of small units: fifty, one hundred, one hundred and fifty, or two hundred, as in another collection attributed to Bryennios.Footnote 24 Moreover, given that Bryennios’ chapters shared rhetorical strategies as well as theoretical premises with other similar compositions, it appears that he was well aware of other compositions based upon kephalaia. In order to ascertain his dependence on, or departure from, his literary models, we need to have a preliminary look at this genre that earned great popularity in late Byzantium.
The texts of chapters have often been regarded as being variations of the Question and Answers (erotapokriseis) literature with which they shared the didactic intention and the division into brief sections.Footnote 25 The Byzantines produced a variety of kephalaia which drew upon a multitude of sources: collections of proverbs or wise sayings, homilies, catenae, philosophical treatises, etc. Nevertheless, unlike the erotapokriseis, the kephalaia were not just repositories of information quoted verbatim from other sources and transmitted in a structured form. Despite their appearance of collections of disparate fragments that were loosely connected, most works of kephalaia maintained an underlying unity.Footnote 26 Joseph Rhakendytes, a fourteenth-century author of a synopsis of Byzantine learning in chapter form, argued that by reordering ideas from predecessors and putting them into new contexts, he produced a completely new work.Footnote 27 Rhakendytes also noted that it was not the originality of content that mattered but instead the completeness and coherence of the message that ultimately generated an understanding of the divine creation.Footnote 28
The difficulties of assessing the various Byzantine collections of chapters have been discussed by E. Kiapidou, who in a recent study argued that the term kephalaia had multiple uses and did not always refer to a collection of passages on a certain theme.Footnote 29 With respect to moralizing kephalaia, in recent years, research on individual collections of chapters focused upon two major issues: their sources and their transmission or further imitation.Footnote 30 The results of these investigations are particularly useful for placing the texts within their literary and intellectual context. Neverthless, if scholars such as Charlotte Roueché pointed out the differences of approach in various collections of chapters, little has been done with regard to their rhetorical strategies of moralization and advice.Footnote 31
The late Byzantine period, with its numerous examples of kephalaia, is particularly relevant for discussing various developments within the genre. One popular type of late Byzantine collection of kephalaia emerged from the ecclesiastical circles and sought to clarify theological topics that sparked polemical debates. In this category, we can include texts such as Gregory Palamas’ One Hundred and Fifty Chapters (c. 1350) which was rather meant to be a theological treatise and to a lesser extent as a book of moral advice.Footnote 32 Closely related to this type of kephalaia were the so-called beneficial chapters (κεφάλαια ὠφέλιμα) addressed to monastic audiences, a type of writing introduced in the fourth century by Evagrius Ponticus.Footnote 33 One of the most popular examples of such a composition in the fourteenth century was Gregory of Sinai's Very Beneficial Chapters (c. 1340),Footnote 34 which provided moral advice to those who adopted Hesychasm.Footnote 35
Another major type of kephalaia popular in the Palaiologan period had a political-practical subject matter, as illustrated by the texts penned in the early fifteenth-century by Manuel II Palaiologos and Demetrios Chrysoloras. The former authored a text of Hypothekai (Foundations) in one hundred chapters addressed to his son and future emperor, John VIII;Footnote 36 the latter wrote a collection of one hundred ‘letters’, which were in fact chapters that drew upon his previous encomiastic works.Footnote 37 The focus of both authors, who followed the old model of Agapetus’ sixth-century Advice for Emperor Justinian divided into seventy-two chapters, was on the rulers’ activity and profile.Footnote 38
Although these compositions were written for different audiences (monastic or court-based), their focus remained upon the acquisition of virtues. As in many other didactic texts,Footnote 39 the four cardinal virtues (wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice) feature prominently, not only in the political chapters but also in the monastic ones.Footnote 40 In all texts, the authors present a systematic and hierarchic view of virtues, be they spiritual, practical, or political.Footnote 41 Virtues are thus presented as stages in a complex spiritual or intellectual formation. For instance, in his Very Beneficial Chapters, Gregory of Sinai first presents the origin of virtues, then proceeds through a ladder (κλῖμαξ) of virtues,Footnote 42 and eventually explores the virtues necessary as a preliminary step in one's spiritual journey to hesychia, tranquility.Footnote 43 For Manuel II, virtues (e.g. generosity, sincerity, military skills, and obedience to the Church) were also meant as stages in the formation of the ruler and, more generally, of the ἀγαθός ἀνήρ (the ideal individual).Footnote 44 Finally, Demetrios Chrysoloras’ chapters developed a system of imperial virtues, in the centre of which he placed the ideas of imperial generosity, trust, and benevolence.Footnote 45
As these authors also try to identify the implications of virtues, they approach several connected themes such as, in Gregory's case, true knowledge, the parts of the soul, as well as the misleading force of sins or vices. For their part, Manuel Palaiologos and Chrysoloras are concerned with political processes taking place at court and draw heavily upon ethical concepts such as choice, the responsibility of action, or voluntariness. These general ethical concerns eventually allowed the authors to integrate virtues into broad theoretical systems: the hesychastic doctrine (Gregory of Sinai), the Aristotelian idea of a good life centred upon virtue in political life (Manuel Palaiologos); and the imperial ideology with its long-held tenets of omnipotence (Demetrios Chrysoloras).
In addition to the common concern for virtues and ethics, such texts shared formal features of expression typical to the genre of moralizing chapters. First and foremost, all authors made use of direct address through imperatives and vocatives. Gregory draws the attention of his readers who wish to attain hesychia by employing frequent imperative forms such as ἰδού or νόμισον.Footnote 46 Likewise, Manuel constantly uses imperatives when he urges his son to learn from others, to practice virtue, or to show respect, while Demetrios Chrysoloras uses a standard manner of address with a form of vocative and sometimes an imperative in the opening of his chapters.Footnote 47
Another rhetorical feature common to these late Byzantine collections of moralizing chapters is the heavy use of pithy sayings that originated in the numerous late Byzantine gnomologies. Strikingly, a considerable number of Gregory's chapters are reduced to just one or two maxims.Footnote 48 Similarly, Demetrios Chrysoloras embeds multiple gnomic sayings in most of the chapters, as for instance when he gives famous quotations from the Platonic dialogues.Footnote 49 Manuel Palaiologos also makes use of gnomic sayings on a large scale but his approach is slightly different as he further briefly explains the gnomes and adds personal reflections.Footnote 50 Notably, in all three texts, most maxims consist of analogies (metaphors and similes) intended to illustrate key theoretical themes. Gregory of Sinai's Chapters includes similes which emphasize the pre-eminence of the spiritual over the sensorial: e.g. between one's sense of visual perception (ὀφθαλμός) and the mind (νοῦς) whose role is to grasp the divine.Footnote 51 On the other hand, for Manuel and Chrysoloras, visual representations form a pretext for brief moral reflections: e.g. the analogy between the rust corroding iron and the hatred that affects one's soul.Footnote 52
This concise presentation of contemporary cases of collections of chapters allows us to draw two preliminary conclusions before moving on to analyzing Bryennios’ text in terms of its didactic content and techniques. Firstly, these collections depended heavily upon previous gnomic sources with the result that often the advice appears to be general rather than specific. Secondly, in terms of the construction of the didactic stance, the authors of late Byzantine didactic kephalaia fashioned their personal profile as authorities in ethical, political, or spiritual matters. Furthermore, these texts were conceived as introductory sections of extensive didactic projects with spiritual and political aims. Gregory's beneficial chapters precede two other collections of chapters in which he details theological aspects of the hesychastic doctrine. Manuel Palaiologos intended his chapters of Foundations to be a preliminary text of his much more extensive Seven Ethical-Political Orations, also dedicated to his son, John VIII.Footnote 53 Likewise, Demetrios Chrysoloras connected his epistolary Kephalaia with a panegyric addressed to the emperor.Footnote 54
In its turn, Bryennios’ Forty-Nine Chapters echoed several concerns and techniques present in these contemporary kephalaia. However, he also carried out significant changes which will be discussed in the following sections.
The didactic content of the Forty-Nine Chapters: virtues and sins
Firstly, several similarities with other kephalaia surface in Bryennios’ didactic treatment of virtues. Just as in the above-mentioned texts of moral or spiritual advice, the focus upon virtues in the Forty–Nine Chapters falls within a broad perspective on human nature and is informed by both spiritual and practical factors.Footnote 55 Besides, like other books of moralizing chapters, The Forty-Nine Chapters provides a systematic view of interconnected virtues. Among the essential virtues, Bryennios lists self-knowledge, consideration towards others, prudence, humility, silence, obeisance to divine commandments, sacrifice, purity, meekness, and finally, charity.Footnote 56 As recently indicated, Bryennios’ focus upon these virtues might have to do with the influence of Thomas Aquinas in late Byzantium.Footnote 57
In terms of the origin of virtues, the text identifies personal agency and responsibility (for example, in Manuel Palaiologos or Chrysoloras) as well as one's effort to draw closer to divine perfection (for example, in Gregory Palamas and Gregory of Sinai).Footnote 58 It also provides practical advice on how to effectively follow a path to salvation which involved the eradication of many types of sins. This was a pervasive theme in his text, first emerging in ch. 32, which includes a detailed description of the underworld (Hades) and of the inhabited earth (κόσμος, οἰκουμένη) where wrongful actions unfolded. The unambiguous condemnation of wrongful behavior emerges in ch. 47 (Τίνες αἰτίαι τῶν καθ᾿ ἡμᾶς λυπηρῶν), where Bryennios lists the sins of the Cretans: that many people do not even know how to do the sign of the cross, that priests are appointed for money, that monks and nuns live together, that people use names for their enemies, that people speak against God when it does not rain, etc. Notably, the presentation of these sins holds a striking level of concrete detail which provides Bryennios with the opportunity to throw light on the daily life of the late Byzantine population in Crete, especially the customs and the practices connected with life in monastic communities.
The open castigation addressed to the Cretans in the last chapters of the treatise also prompts the author to introduce a detailed account of spiritual virtues among which he regards charity, ἐλεημοσύνη, to be the most necessary one (ἀναγκαιοτέρα τῶν ἀρετῶν).Footnote 59 The emphasis on charity echoes the divine attribute mentioned in ch. 2 where Bryennios praised God for not punishing the sinners.Footnote 60 Doubtless, this choice of the highest virtue did not occur by chance because charity mirrored his own situation after he had been expelled from Crete on grounds that he considered unfair.Footnote 61 The central role of ἐλεημοσύνη in his ethical system is indicated by the fact that Bryennios dedicates the whole last chapter to this topic as a closure of the Forty-Nine Chapters. Therein, he provides a lengthy discussion upon this particular virtue in which he compares the individuals who cultivate charity with tradesmen or farmers, on the one hand, and with God, on the other hand.Footnote 62 This elaborate comparison is telling for the author's distinct approach to virtues: unlike his predecessors who mostly drew upon generic virtues and limited themselves to restating old maxims, Bryennios takes a different path and provides extensive commentaries of the moral situations which he addresses. True to this stylistic commitment, his perspective on virtues has a strong sense of visual order, as revealed in ch. 14 where he compares individuals with trees producing fruits. Just as trees bear fruits, Bryennios says, in the same way, people bear virtues as their ‘fruits’. The analogy also reflects a significant shift from the contemporary views that regarded the system of virtues in abstract terms informed by ancient theories of ethics and most often in a strict hierarchy.Footnote 63
Bryennios’ treatment of sins and virtues with the help of numerous concrete details and observations of the natural environment indicates the centrality of visual representations within his moral teachings. In the ensuing section, we will look more closely into how he shaped his teachings, in other words, how his rhetorical strategies impacted upon his didacticism and further set him apart among other contemporary authors of kephalaia.
Didactic techniques in the Forty-Nine Chapters: rhetorical analogies and figurative language
As scholars have long argued, the didacticism of a text can be detected at three levels: the presence of a didactic intention reflected in programmatic statements; the construction of didactic authority; and the textual design geared towards pedagogical purposes.Footnote 64 Certainly, numerous Byzantine texts sought to teach or to convey information, but few achieved such aims in a structured manner and with an open pedagogical intention.Footnote 65 By contrast, in Bryennios’ chapters, we can detect all the prerequisites of a didactic text. Thus, in terms of didactic intention, in the general preface (προθεωρία) of the Cretan treatises which included the Forty-Nine Chapters, the author underlines the beneficial character of the texts.Footnote 66 The same preface mentions the Cretans’ request for a word of moral advice after Bryennios returned to Constantinople in 1402.Footnote 67 Despite the initial remarks couched in the language of rhetorical modesty, Bryennios never asserts his personal didactic role but instead attributes the function of the teacher (διδάσκαλος) to other elements. In ch. 4, he lists the many ways whereby knowledge can be imparted: the scriptures, the consciousness, the created world (κόσμος), the commandments, the written commentaries about the Scriptures, and even ourselves.Footnote 68 Nevertheless, among these, Bryennios singles out the κόσμος, the created world (κτίσις τῶν ὁρωμένων), as being the element which can transmit the highest type of teaching about the divine harmonious design, that is to say, how all natural elements work together:
τὸν δὲ κόσμον, ἤτοι τὴν κτίσιν τὴν ὁρωμένην, διδάσκαλον ἀγάπης ἡμῖν παρεστήσατο. ἰδοὺ γὰρ ὅλος ὁ Οὐρανὸς ὅλῃ τῇ γῇ, τῷ πυρί, τῷ ἀέρι, τῷ ὕδατι καὶ τοῖς πᾶσι τὰ πάντα, φιλίως καὶ προσηνῶς συναρμολογεῖται.
(God) gave us the world, that is to say, the visible creation, as a teacher of love. See how the entire Heaven is fitted together with the entire earth, the fire, the air, the water and with everything else in a friendly and gentle manner.Footnote 69
The insistence upon the teaching function of κόσμος contrasts with the attitude of other contemporary authors of didactic-moralizing chapters. As indicated, in many cases, writers openly assumed a personal didascalic stance, as in the already mentioned cases of Manuel II Palaiologos, Demetrios Chrysoloras,Footnote 70 or Gregory Palamas.Footnote 71 Interestingly, Palamas, followed by Gregory of Sinai, had a completely different view when he stated that one can learn ‘something free of deceit and certain about God only from the teaching of spirit (ἐκ τοῦ πνεύματος διδασκαλίας)’.Footnote 72
It is likely that Bryennios’ construction of κόσμος as being the key teaching agent in the Forty-Nine Chapters did not occur by accident. On the one hand, κόσμος held an epistemic function in other philosophical and theological texts, although without the centrality intended by Bryennios. On the other hand, Bryennios appears to be acquainted with other contemporary theoretical approaches as well, because, by late Byzantium, the concept of κόσμος came to signify a complex conceptual nexus, especially in connection with religious iconography. In Byzantine artistic theory and practice, κόσμος was used with the meaning of order and ornament which, as I. Drpić argued, ‘enhanced the representation of images, organized their appearance, and communicated sanctity’.Footnote 73 Drpić also convincingly suggested that in late Byzantium, κόσμος, as the adornment of sacred objects, was used abundantly because it responded to aesthetic norms as well as to the pervasive understanding that κόσμος could partake of the object's sanctity.Footnote 74 While Bryennios uses κόσμος with the parallel meaning of the created world, he also integrates the notion of an orderly ornamentation. On several occasions, he emphasizes the idea that the κόσμος holds an intricate order and moreover generates sensorial pleasure. He describes the universe in terms of a well-structured creation, with the heaven embracing the earth, and each level holding a specific function.Footnote 75
The idea of an ordered and pleasurable creation receives further elaboration in his rhetorical approach. On several occasions, Bryennios mentions sapheneia (clarity) and enargeia (vividness) as being the means of providing effective moral lessons.Footnote 76 For instance, in chapter four, he addresses the issue of proper and plain expression and compares ill or incomplete bodies with ineffective speeches:
Ὡς γὰρ ἐπὶ σώματος, ἐνὸς μέρους ἔλλειψις, ἤ ἀσθένεια λυμαίνεται τῷ παντὶ, καὶ οὐ τὸ μέρος μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ ὅλον ὑβρίζεται τῷ τοῦ ἐλαττώματι. Οὕτω καὶ ἐπὶ λόγου παντός συμβαῖνον ἴδοι τις ἂν τῇ τῆς μιᾶς λέξεως, ἤ ἐνοίας, ἀκαίρῳ προθέσει, ἤ ἀφερέσει τὸν πάντα περιφρονούμενον. Οὐ γὰρ δεῖ τοῖς καλοῖς τὰ ἀκαλλῆ μίγνυσθαι, οὖτε ταῖς ὕβρεσι τοὺς ἐπαίνους ἐνοῦσθαι, οὐδὲ τοῖς σπουδαίοις συναναφύρεσθαι τὰ γέλοια.
In the case of a body, the absence of a limb and the weakness affect the entire body and not just a limb but the whole is altered by the loss. In the same way, in the case of any kind of speech or text, one could see if by inappropriately adding or removing a word or an idea the entire composition was disdained. For one must not mix the beautiful and unpleasant words, nor put together insults and praises, nor knead together serious matters with jokes.
Connected to these rhetorical choices, in terms of didactic design, the author employs a strategy of teaching virtues underpinned by the heavy use of figurative language and rhetorical analogies (mostly metaphors and similes). In his monograph on Bryennios, Tomadakes already noted that Bryennios’ style featured a variety of means of expression (ποικιλία) and numerous vivid images which contributed to the author's effective communication.Footnote 77 Indeed, albeit conventional, analogies appear in most of the chapters, a situation which contrasts with the large scale use of abstract philosophical or theological reflection present in similar collections of moralizing chapters. These analogies often extend over entire chapters.Footnote 78 Recent theoretical research on figurative language yielded several observations which are relevant to the present discussion as well. Firstly, analogies are not merely ornamental but they often carry further meanings determined by their frequency. In the words of G. Lakoff, ‘if one tries to paraphrase a metaphor, what is lost is more than just a certain effect. What is lost is part of the meaning itself, the insight which the metaphor alone can give’.Footnote 79 Secondly, as Keysar and Glucksberg correctly argued, ‘the unique function of metaphors does not lie in the novelty of the information conveyed, but in the way that it is conveyed’.Footnote 80 Taking these assumptions as a starting point, I will try next to answer the question as to why Bryennios turns to vivid imagery and figurative language when putting forth moral commandments in the Forty-Nine Chapters.
First, we need to look at the content and distribution of the analogies which Bryennios used. Doubtless, most of Bryennios’ analogies can be found at work across a variety of other texts, including homiletic literature and epideictic rhetoric. Nevertheless, he takes a step further and firmly grounds the use of analogies in the area of sensorial perception. From the outset, in the first chapter, he emphasizes the importance of senses for understanding divine essence and God's attributes. All five senses, seeing, touching, smelling, tasting, and hearing, Bryennios states, account for the marvelous beauty of divine creation, the κόσμος.Footnote 81 Following an ancient gnoseological scheme,Footnote 82 he indicates that sensorial perception also constituted a preliminary step in understanding how the created world reflected the divine realm. Furthermore, the importance of senses is reflected in the persistent references to natural elements as, for instance, in ch. 12 where he stresses that the contemplation of all natural elements (the sky, the sun, the earth, plants, and animals) reveals God's charity.Footnote 83
Notably, this positive view about sensorial perception contrasted with the perspective of the contemporary theologians who authored collections of κεφάλαια. In his One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, Gregory Palamas associated evil passions with the pleasures derived from senses.Footnote 84 Following Palamas, in his Beneficial Chapters, Gregory of Sinai further emphasized the misleading role of phantasia, the image-calling faculty derived from sensorial perception.Footnote 85 He states that sin enters one's soul through the two initial levels of knowledge acquisition: senses and phantasia.Footnote 86 Subsequently, he asserts that knowledge about the divine comes from contemplation and constant prayer.Footnote 87 On the contrary, by asserting the importance of senses and phantasia, Bryennios instead seems to echo the approach to be found in fictional texts or in the late Byzantine court rhetoric which underlined the importance of perception in the gnoseological scheme.Footnote 88 For instance, like Bryennios, in an extensive panegyric for John VIII, Isidore of Kiev privileged the vividness of description, enargeia, and argued that this rhetorical quality arises from the appeal to senses.Footnote 89
Thus, it could be argued that this central role of senses and of calling images into one's mind (i.e. phantasia) in acquiring knowledge of divine attributes prompted Bryennios to use figurative language, consisting of a range of rhetorical analogies. Two major types of analogies can be distinguished in the Forty-Nine Chapters: one series of analogies highlights the co-substantiality of the divine realm and the created world; and another set of more symmetric analogies zooms into various aspects of human life. The first type of analogies holds a broad spectrum of connotations which reverberate with representations of cosmic magnitude. In ch. 4 (Περὶ Βίβλων εἰς γνῶσιν ἅπασι Προκειμένων), Bryennios assimilates the visible world (ὁ κόσμος) to a teacher of divine loveFootnote 90 and states that the awareness of the harmonious divine design of the visible world arrives through the Scriptures, which in itself is a reminder of divine creation and presence.Footnote 91 In a similar vein, in chs. 13–15, Bryennios constructs an extensive analogy between the physical world and the divine sphere. First, he assimilates aspects of Paradise to human life.
Πᾶς οὗτος ὁ Κόσμος Παράδεισός ἐστιν ἤ τοῦ ἐν Ἐδὲμ Παραδείσου ἀνάλογος. Διὸ ὥσπερ ἐκεῖ τότε Ἀδάμ, Εὔα, ξύλον, ὄφις καθάπαξ, οὕτως ἐνταῦθα δι’ ὅλου αὐτὰ ταῦτα ἢ παραπλήσια πεφύκασιν ἀληθῶς.
This entire world is the Paradise or resembling the Paradise in the Eden. Therefore, just as Adam, Eve, the tree, and the snake existed, in the same way here truly were begotten entirely the same or similar things.
Next, in ch. 14 (Ὅτι πολυφορώτατον δένδρον ὁ ἄνθρωπος), Bryennios continues with an elaborate analogy between humans and trees that produce a variety of fruits. Eventually, in ch. 15, he draws a comprehensive parallel between humans and God and between the world and God:
Πλοίῳ καὶ οἰκίᾳ, Δικαστηρίῳ καὶ Πόλει, φυτῷ καὶ Γῇ καὶ Ουρανῷ, παντὶ κτίσματι καὶ Θεῷ ὁ ἄνθρωπος ὅμοιος ἐστί. Τοῖς μὲν κατὰ τὴν πλάσιν τὴν ὁρωμένην, τοῖς δὲ κατὰ τὴν κίνησιν τὴν νοουμένην. Ὀφείλει γοῦν, ὡς μὲν πλοῖον, τὰ κύματα τοῦ θαλαττώδους βίου στέγων καὶ ἀποκρουόμενος. Ὡς δὲ οἰκία, τὸν ἔνοικον πάντοθεν περιθάλπειν Θεόν. ὡς δὲ Δικαστήριον, ἐν τούτῳ μάλιστα τηρείσθαι καὶ ἐκδικεῖσθαι τὰ δίκαια.
People are similar to ships and houses, to tribunals and cities, to plants and the earth and the sky, to the entire creation and to God. They are similar to some elements according to the visible form, and to others according to the rational motion. Therefore, it is fitting that, just like a ship, people avoid and repel the waves of a stormy life. Just like a house, they cherish God who lives inside. Just like a tribunal, in this life, they maintain justice and act justly to the highest extent.Footnote 92
Doubtless, in these instances, Bryennios drew upon the rich Byzantine homiletic and apologetic literature and, following the rules of these ecclesiastical genres, he constantly addresses the topic of divine omnipotence, as in ch. 6 where he compares God to the Sun,Footnote 93 while chapters 2 and 32 provide a comparison between God and physicians (ἰατροί), a standard analogy in ecclesiastical literature.Footnote 94 On this occasion, Bryennios seems to allude to the late Byzantine political landscape in which emperors often had to assert their authority against the growing influence of the Church. In encomiastic literature, emperors were also compared to physicians, in order to emphasize their being in charge of the citizens’ protection.Footnote 95 Bryennios further signals his intention to participate in the contemporary debates over the limits of imperial authority in ch. 2 where he introduces a negative analogy between the worldly rulers and the divine one. The former ones, he says, are driven only by a desire to subject people and therefore are sinful, while God, the supreme basileus, is forgiving, despite his infinite omnipotence.Footnote 96
This extensive analogy between worldly rulers and God resembles other analogies in the court rhetoric of the late fourteenth century, which portrayed emperors as closely reflecting God's attributes and as possessing a divine mandate to govern.Footnote 97 Imperial panegyrics, as well as counseling literature, depicted the emperors as being God's representatives on Earth and partaking in his powers without the mediation of the ecclesiastical authority of the patriarch.Footnote 98 However, at the turn of the fifteenth century, many ecclesiastics, who included prominent figures of theologians and canonists such as Makarios of Ankara or Symeon of Thessalonike, contested the imperial authority on the grounds of canonical regulations.Footnote 99 Therefore, it is not far-fetched to state that in the early fifteenth century, when Bryennios returned to Constantinople and composed the chapters, his reference to divine omnipotence served the speculations of a group of ecclesiastics who positioned themselves against the emperor's rights to intervene in the affairs of the Church.
As much as Bryennios emphasized divine omnipotence, he also integrated other, more complex analogies that touched upon aspects of the divine economy. In an extended comparison in ch. 10, he addresses the importance of the Church: the Church is like a hospital for the suffering, a school for imparting knowledge, a tribunal for those who seek justice, an army, a paradise, a meadow, a spring, a mother etc. In several other instances, Bryennios explains the intricacies of theological principles by resorting to analogies with natural elements. In chapter 16, the Trinity is compared with the three elements of the Sun: the discus, the rays, and the light which correspond to divine singularity, the divine attributes, and God's presence respectively. Likewise, ch. 24 provides another comparison between the image of the cross and the four winds:
Συμφυὴς τῷ Κόσμῳ καὶ σύγχρονος, καὶ τοῖς ἐν αὐτῷ καλλίστοις, ὁ τοῦ Σταυροῦ τύπος […]. Εὐθὺς γὰρ ὕψος καὶ βάθος, μῆκος καὶ πλάτος, συνυφέστηκε τῷ Παντί. Ἀνατολῆ καὶ Δύσις, Ἄρκτος καὶ Μεσημβρία, ἐνθεωρεῖται τῇ κλίσει. Ἄνεμοι ἔνθεν σταυροειδῶς πνέουσι.
The form of the Cross has the same nature and the same age as the World and with all the best elements therein. The height and the depth, the length and the width came straightaway into being together with the universe. East and West, North and South are observed in the bending. Whence, the winds blow as in a cross.
Then, in ch. 26, Bryennios further develops an analogy between the afterlife and the earthly life and draws upon the idea of the heavenly Jerusalem as a universal home:
πόλις ἡμῶν πέφυκεν ἀληθὴς ἡ ἄνω Ἱερουσαλήμ. Ξένοι πεφύκαμεν τῶν ἡμετέρων τούτων οἰκιῶν, ὅτι οἰκίαν ἔχομεν ἀχειροποίητον ἐν Οὐρανοῖς.
Our home city is the heavenly Jerusalem. We were born as strangers from our own home because we have a heavenly home not made by hands.
The idea of the afterlife is developed in visual terms in two more analogies. In ch. 27, Bryennios depicts the event of the second coming of Christ in naturalistic terms:
Ὥσπερ γὰρ νῦν Ἡλίου λάμποντος ἅπαντα φανεροῦται τὰ ὑπὲρ γῆν, οὕτω καὶ τότε Θεοῦ καὶ πάντων λαμπόντων, καὶ Θεὸν καὶ ἑαυτούς καὶ ἀλλήλους ἐπιγνώσονται. […] Καὶ πρῶτον μὲν ἡ βασιλικὴ καὶ Θεία Σημηία ὁ τοῦ Κυρίου Σταυρὸς φανήσεται ἐν τῷ Οὐρανῷ λάμπων ὑπὲρ τὸν Ἥλιον, Ἁγίων Ἀγγέλων περιστοιχέντων αὐτόν.
Just as now the earthly creation is revealed when the Sun shines over everything, in the same way then, when God and everything will be shining, they will witness God, and themselves and each other. And first, as a kingly and divine sign, the Cross of the Lord will appear in the Sky shining over the Sun with the holy angels embracing it.
A minute description follows of the second coming of Christ, in which Bryennios emphasizes the sensorial aspects of the event: watching the saints, hearing their chants and hymns, etc. Later, maintaining a similar visual emphasis upon the afterlife, in ch. 32 (Περὶ τῆς τοῦ Κόσμου Διαιρέσεως καὶ τῶν ἐν αὐτῷ διαφορῶν), Bryennios provides an explanatory analogy about the three levels of the world: the heavens, the earth, and the underworld (Hades).
The emphasis upon visual representations becomes even more apparent in the use of another type of analogies pertaining to daily life realities. Unlike the previous type of analogies that extend over several chapters, these have a more limited scope. Some of the analogies touch upon the negative emotions and types of behavior which alter reasoning and the acquisition of valid knowledge conducive to ethical behavior. In ch. 8, regarding excessive patience, Bryennios compares emotions with night dreams which might undermine one's actions. Ch. 25 deals with human sins and draws a parallel with the actions of pagan gods: Envy echoes the personality of Chronos; Drunkenness-Dionysus; Divination-Apollo; Prostitution-Aphrodite; Money-loving- Hermes. Moreover, because all such afflictions of the soul, πάθη ψυχῆς, correspond to a pagan god, Bryennios concludes that they reflect cases of idolatry.
Other analogies address concrete issues of ethics and behavior. In ch. 28 (Ὅτι ἔστι σταδιοδρόμος πᾶς ὁ ἄνθρωπος σωθῆναι βουλόμενος), Bryennios provides an extensive analogy between one's own life and an athletic race. Although he proceeds cautiously and indicates that he speaks only hypothetically (λέγειν ἐν ὑποδείγματι), Bryennios offers a vivid depiction of a race with crowds of cheering spectators: life is similar to a stadium, he states, while God sits on the highest throne in the middle of the audience with the angels and the saints surrounding Him. Such a race, Bryennios explains, has numerous obstacles and, in order to finish it, the competitors not only need to have a strong body but also a strong soul. Bryennios constructs an elaborate picture of the race: among the spectators, he includes beautiful women and well-dressed youths, while there is also instrumental music which he resembles to that of the ‘Sirens’.Footnote 100 All these features are meant to distract athletes (σταδιοδρόμοι) from their supreme goal of reaching the end of the race. In another analogy from the same category, Bryennios compares the flow of time with the flow of water (ch. 33). The created world (kosmos) is similar to a tree that engenders as fruits two types of dreams: pleasurable and bitter. He then compares these types of dreams to phantasiai which, he states, do not have much impact upon one's course of life. Again, here he avoids the heavily negative connotations of phantasia present in other texts of theological chapters such as Palamas’ One hundred and fifty chapters.Footnote 101 Likewise, in ch. 22, Bryennios draws a parallel between individuals, the physical world, and the divine realm. On this occasion, he states that people partake both into (μετέχουσιν) elements of the natural world (earth, plants, etc.) and into the divine (angels, spirit, God).
The above overview of the two types of analogies indicates the pervasiveness of figurative language which admittedly underlined the author's didactic strategy in the Forty-Nine Chapters. In most chapters, Bryennios uses a consistent structure with definitions and illustrations that develop into extensive moral and theological treatments. Several reasons behind this approach can be distinguished. First, given the author's acquaintance with the norms of the ancient Greek literary tradition, it is plausible that he sought to apply rhetorical amplification, an ancient technique which aimed at increasing persuasiveness through sheer accumulation and the repetition of images.Footnote 102 As part of the rhetorical invention, amplification also aimed at heightening certain effects.Footnote 103 In Bryennios’ case, the intended effect was admittedly didactic and, if other texts offered only general hints on virtues in the form of aphorisms or philosophical reflection, he provided extensive visual illustrations pertaining to the necessity of practicing virtues. His use of amplification further arises in the combined use of two rhetorical devices which have long been associated therewith:Footnote 104 synaesthesia, i.e. the presentation of phenomena through recourse to all senses, and the locus amoenus topos, which he reproduces in all its standard details (trees, brooks, singing birds).Footnote 105 Thus, in several analogies, he describes the wonders of the created world by taking as reference points the five senses to which he ascribes the pleasure of perceiving the physical elements of the environment:
ἅπαντα δὲ, ὡς ὁρῶμεν, δωροφορεῖ τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ. Οὐρανὸς σκέπει, Ἥλιος φωτίζει, Ἀὴρ πνοὴν παρέχει, καὶ χώραν εἰς μετάβασιν. Γῆ καὶ βαστάζει καὶ παρέχει τροφάς. ὕδωρ ποτίζει πλύνει καὶ ψύχει. Zῶα καὶ φυτὰ τὰ μὲν τρέφει ἢ τέρπει τὰ δὲ γε παντοίως ὑπηρετεῖ. Ταῦτα δὲ πάντα πρὸς τῆς προνοίας οἰκονομεῖται, ἵνα καὶ ἡμεῖς αὐτὸν τὸν ἡμῶν Ἐπιστάτην γνωρίσωμεν.Footnote 106
(God), as we see, gives everything as a gift to man. The Heaven protects, the Sun illuminates, the Air gives us breathing and space to move. The Earth bears and offers nourishment. The water quenches thirst, washes, and refreshes. Animals and plants support life, offer delight, and are entirely in our service. These are all regulated by pronoia so that we know God as our Governor.
Furthermore, Bryennios’ approach reflected his attested interest in pictorial representations, a preoccupation which he developed during his long stay in Crete. We know from his letters that he was in close contact with local Cretan paintersFootnote 107 such as Alexios Apokaukos, to whom he dedicated the Forty-Nine Chapters and who portrayed the ‘decadence’ of the local population in his church frescoes.Footnote 108 As previously argued, in this period, under the influence of Western art, late Byzantine painters in Crete adopted a new trend that emphasized vividness of representation and privileged realistic details.Footnote 109 Ever since his early homilies delivered in Crete, Bryennios drew upon artistic representations in order to explain key theological concepts. For instance, he discussed the Holy Trinity in pictorial terms as being a union of three circles which shared the colours of the rainbow.Footnote 110 In other texts, Bryennios made direct references to pictorial representations of the inferno and of the Last Judgement, two of the most popular topics among the Cretan painters of this period. On one occasion, he noted that the church painters mistakenly represented the apostles during the Last Judgement when, according to the Scriptures, only God was considered to be present.Footnote 111
The high number of visual metaphors and similes further underpinned the author's literary and didactic intentions. On the one hand, he seemingly capitalized upon the stylistic differences from other collections of chapters. Such an approach, that privileged teaching by rich analogies, contrasted heavily with both the gnomic moralization of contemporary authors of kephalaia, such as Manuel Palaiologos and Demetrios Chrysoloras, as well as with the schematic view on virtues emerging in monastic chapters such as those of Gregory of Sinai. Arguably, this strategy indicated Bryennios’ shift from the idea that didactic authority relied upon past authorities towards the notion of teaching through the natural elements of the created world.
On the other hand, the visualization of the worldly wonders achieved by the recourse to analogies, and through the appeal to perception and phantasia, allowed Bryennios to approach the main theme of the Cretans’ behavior in a distinct, didactic framework that abandoned direct address present in all the other contemporary chapters. As recent studies on figurative language indicated, the presence of multiple analogies signals an intention to validate an author's messages and ideas.Footnote 112 Indeed, Bryennios’ moralization emerges as being more effective in combining spiritual and practical issues. Likewise, rhetorical theory pointed out that analogies stress relations rather than individual objects and phenomena.Footnote 113 From this perspective, the numerous analogies between the physical environment and the divine order present in the Forty-Nine Chapters suggest their likeness and downplay their difference. Contrary to other authors of kephalaia such as Gregory of Sinai, who emphasized the ontological differences between the created world and the divine, Bryennios’ analogies rather typified a network of positive relations between the two realms, an idea which allows him to effectively highlight his moral teachings.Footnote 114
One notch down, the contrast with other contemporary kephalaia allows us to relate the Forty-Nine Chapters to its audiences and to understand the text's functions in the intellectual and social contexts of late Byzantium. First, the text was appropriate for the effective dissemination of its moralizing message amid his primary audience, the monastic community in Crete. As Bazini indicated, Bryennios circulated the Forty-Nine Chapters after he returned to Constantinople and his former flock beseeched him to send a moral reminder.Footnote 115 Although his audience consisted mostly of monks, Bryennios focused upon both mores and basic theological notions, and unlike other contemporary authors of monastic kephalaia such as Gregory of Sinai or Gregory Palamas, he avoided the themes connected with Hesychasm. As indicated in the preface, he chose a plain literary strategy aimed at exposing the Cretans’ lifestyle which he perceived as wrongful.Footnote 116 In this strategy, visual analogies generated a contrast between an idealized representation of the created world as divine creation and the widespread sins of his primary audience. This stylistic choice, together with the emphasis on practical matters in his moralization, suggests that Bryennios merged the effects of the monastic-beneficial, moral-political kephalaia, and homilies.
Second, when considering the Forty-Nine Chapters against the historical and literary background of late Byzantium, we can also detect the author's attempt to fashion an intellectual identity befitting the competitive Constantinopolitan rhetorical milieu.Footnote 117 Dating from the years preceding the period when Bryennios became a prominent figure in the Byzantine court, this text with its distinctive rhetorical features reflects the author's efforts to connect with the literary fashions and models of the time. Such efforts can already be detected in his letters sent to high profile Constantinopolitans during his two-decades-long Cretan sojourn. In many of these epistles, he praised the rhetorical skills of his addressees and used a more sophisticated style than we usually encounter in his sermons or other religious texts.Footnote 118 In addition, his attachment to the intellectual circles of Constantinople is signaled by his imitating the foundational role of kephalaia within a broader didactic program. As mentioned above, late Byzantine kephalaia were often explicitly linked to other didactic texts. Since the kephalaia in Bryennios’ Cretan corpus also stood as the first text in a collection that included other texts of advice, it is not far-fetched to assume that the Forty-Nine Chapters were intended as the foundation of a comprehensive didactic program in the form of a spiritual legacy for his former community. At the same time, such a didactic program enabled him to establish a rhetorical authority, which he later used in the intense political debates that saw numerous Byzantine scholars trying to find solutions to the empire's difficulties preceding its final demise in 1453.
Conclusion
In summary, this study argued that Joseph Bryennios’ Forty-Nine Chapters provides not only valuable evidence regarding widespread social practices of the late fourteenth century but also an example of how he adapted the genre of kephalaia according to his didactic intentions as well as to his audience in Crete and Constantinople. So far, only a few researchers have examined the collections of chapters in terms of their rhetoric or underlying didactic strategies. In doing so, scholars have pointed to the influence of gnomic collections and florilegia of wisdom literature on chapter literature. As indicated by the analysis of several representative texts, many late Byzantine kephalaia, whether originating in the monastic or in the court milieu, relied heavily upon wise formulations, maxims, and gnomic statements. Subsequently, the kephalaia held not only a high degree of similarity in terms of their focus upon ethics, but also constructed an idea of didactic authority based on their authors’ expertise, strengthened by the appeal to the foresight of the ancients. In turn, Bryennios, by choosing to employ visual metaphors and similes instead of a direct gnomic approach, departed from other contemporary didactic authors especially in terms of the rhetorical technique he used. Thereby, he suggested that the created world, and the rhetorical representation thereof, can be a teacher of virtues as good as the heritage of the past.
