Biographies of any individual from the past require reliable source material free from hagiographical or antagonistic bias. Due to his polarizing reputation, perhaps this is one reason why biographies of Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) are scarce. The last exhaustive biography of Bernard was originally published in 1935. An updated, modern account of Bernard's life has been sorely needed. For modern scholars, traditional Bernard has typically been sidelined in favor of enlightened Abelard or congenial Ælred of Rievaulx. Perhaps Bernard has become difficult for some modern scholars because his weltanschauung seems archaic to prevailing ideologies.
In Bernard of Clairvaux: An Inner Life, Brian Patrick McGuire endeavors to present the Bernard of history rather than the Bernard of myth and legend. In many ways, he succeeds. McGuire's admitted dislike of Bernard is well-known, but in this text he attempts to set his own predispositions aside in favor of sound historical method. In fact, he admits this writing project was an “exercise in scholarly humility” (248). Gleaning insights from medieval documents, the writings of Bernard's contemporaries, and from the saint himself, McGuire achieves in providing depth and inquiry to seemingly unimportant details of Bernard's life. What we discover in this accessible biography are details of Bernard's early life, monastic conversion, and engagements with the ecclesiastical and political world. Chapter 3, which addresses many of Bernard's letters, is intriguing, for Bernard's letters reveal the man he himself desired the world to see. Missing in McGuire's work are spiritual and theological reflections on his writings, which have constituted the core of Bernard scholarship for generations.
Bernard was a polarizing figure. During his lifetime he was both loved and loathed. Focused, strong-minded, unashamedly conservative with a persuasive tongue and pen, Bernard was determined to see the twelfth-century church reformed and restored into the image he believed was most needed: a return to the ideals of the church fathers through monastic expansion and reform. His sermons and treatises have remained as some of the most respected writings of medieval Europe. In Bernard's corpus, we find deep emotion, mystical and intimate love for God, and passionate preaching. He rarely backed down from any issue he believed was connected to Christ, even if it had nothing to do with himself, Clairvaux, or the Cistercian Order itself. Due to all this worldly engagement, McGuire rightly questions whether Bernard could have been a good abbot, even if in his sancta simplicitas he may have believed he was (245). The author's translative nuance of the word absterruit from the Vita prima to describe how Bernard's presence sometimes spooked his monks reveals tremendous insights (32) into the abbot's complex personality.
McGuire's biography is well researched and his presentation is straightforward. Utilizing Bernard's extensive letter collection, the author allows Bernard to speak for himself. His section on Bernard's early life before entering Cîteaux Abbey, his involvement in the papal schism of 1130s, and his unfortunate involvement in the Second Crusade are particularly enlightening. McGuire clearly demonstrates how Bernard did not possess the self-control to be faithful to his monastic vocation by remaining withdrawn from society. Instead, he would sometimes assume authority (even usurping the pope) in decisions he believed were his to make. Bernard's impulsiveness remained a consistent vice in his life, making him a very human saint. Throughout his text, McGuire offers seemingly small details that may have larger implications for Bernard's motivations. In one example, due to illness, the abbot of Clairvaux had to miss the activities of the seminal Cistercian General Chapter of 1119, at which the foundational Charter of Charity was approved, officially establishing the Cistercian Order (35).
Endeavoring to interpret the inner of life of anyone is problematic. Attempting to do so with an individual who lived nine hundred years ago requires great prudence. In many ways, McGuire succeeds in this challenging undertaking, although at times he presents objective events with subjective assumptions of Bernard's intentions. For example, investigating Bernard's sexual orientation is a puzzling addition, for this twenty-first century language would not have been part of Bernard's worldview. McGuire also speculates about Bernard's battles with specific medical conditions (including bipolar disease) based on one or two written statements.
A most unique inclusion in this new biography is a glimpse into McGuire's methodology. The author posits fifteen questions relating to Bernard's life that informed his portrait of Bernard. It is in McGuire's responses to his own questions that readers have a glimpse into the author's own inner life and his estimation of Bernard. These fifteen questions coincide with the biography itself, serving as an illuminating appendix of sorts. Perusing these fifteen questions leads the reader to ponder fifteen more questions—not surprising for an individual as intriguing as the abbot of Clairvaux.
Bernard of Clairvaux: An Inner Life is a welcome and needed contribution to Cistercian scholarship. When McGuire's personal disdain for Bernard is curtailed, what remains is a welcome look into the motivations, ideals, and activities of a complex man whom many have called the most influential individual in the first half of twelfth-century Europe, and whom the author labels the world's first European. Thanks to McGuire, a picture of this elusive saint becomes a bit clearer.
