The Ugly Renaissance (58 page)

Yet if the visual arts can be used as a window onto the Renaissance as it really was, the culture of this most remarkable of periods can also serve as a mirror for today’s world, and it is at this point that the exaltation of the past must give way to an indictment of the present.

One of the most striking things about the “ugly” Renaissance is that—with the exception of technology—it was not so very different from the modern world. There is certainly no less suffering than there was in Italy six hundred years ago. The streets still crawl with vice, and the city squares are still home to rape, robbery, and murder. Politicians are still corrupt, shady characters, mercenaries still rampage around certain parts of the world, and bankers are still growing fat from their ill-gotten gains. Even though popes may be rather nicer than they were in the past, there is still no paucity of intrigue and sexual scandal in the Vatican. What is more, there is no less intolerance, no less bigotry, no less sickness, no less inequality. Poverty still abounds, and racism is still a terrifyingly common feature of daily life. Hatred between nations still grows, and appreciation of other cultures floats on the surface of a deep well of crude stereotypes and prejudicial ignorance.

But whereas the vileness of the Renaissance inspired both patrons and artists to strive for something more, today’s world seems all too comfortable to surround itself with an ocean of unimaginative grayness. Even though technological developments have made it possible to achieve more than ever before, there is no real aspiration to go beyond function, no desire to aspire to anything better or more perfect. Indeed, if anything, there is a sense of contented mediocrity, of self-satisfied cultural stagnation, and of deliberate disdain for beauty and excellence.

History is admittedly a poor teacher, and such lessons as it can impart should usually be treated with extreme caution. But when we hold the mirror of the Renaissance up to the face of the modern world, it is hard not to be roused by a sense that there is, in fact, a lesson that needs to be learned, and urgently. However dreadful contemporary life may be, it is essential never to be deluded into thinking that material suffering necessitates cultural mediocrity, unabashed ugliness, or the
abandonment of the ideal. Exactly the opposite is true. The darker the night may seem, the more fervently should men yearn for the clear light of the dawn, and the more avidly should they long to fill it with beauty and wonder. If scandal, suffering, and corruption must exist, let them do so while filling the world with monuments to the indomitable brilliance of the human imagination, transforming the earth into a living, breathing monument to the sublime, so that in six hundred years’ time men may look back at this age and sigh with amazement to think that such miracles were possible. In short, dreams must be dreamed again. A new Renaissance is long overdue.

A
PPENDIX
B

R
ENAISSANCE
P
OPES

T
HE
A
VIGNON
P
APACY

T
HE
G
REAT
S
CHISM

R
OME

A
VIGNON

P
ISA

T
HE
R
OMAN
R
ETURN

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book has grown out of a long-standing passion for the history of the Italian Renaissance, and has its origins in countless days spent poring over dusty books in libraries the world over. But it has also grown out of something more fundamental. Illuminating though academic research undoubtedly is, the excitement and encouragement of friends and family have always brought me home to the real thrills of the period, and have opened my eyes to the immense possibilities of the “ugly” Renaissance. Without the many long conversations, without the laughter and the tears, without the loves and the sorrows of recent years, this book would never have occurred to me, much less come to fruition, and it is for the profound humanity of those with whom I have shared so many times that I am so tremendously grateful.

My family has been a pillar of almost incalculable strength and support, and has always been a source of boundless inspiration. Chris and Ingrid Lee, my brother Piers, Shindo Scarrott, Joe and Sophie, and Anna Edwards will perhaps never know how very much this book is indebted to them.

I will forever feel lucky to have some of the dearest and kindest friends anyone could wish for. James O’Connor, Pit Péporté, Christina Reuterskiöld, Alexander Millar, Luke Houghton, and Tim Stanley read early drafts of various chapters with incredible patience, and endured countless discussions of arcane details, always with great warmth of heart. Their suggestions and advice have been priceless, and there is not a page that does not bear the imprint of their wisdom. But perhaps more important, they have all kept me going through some of the darkest times, and have kept the light burning at the end of a tunnel that sometimes seemed endless. They have shown me what true friendship really is, and it means the world to me. Especial thanks are, however, due to Marie Sebban, whose kindness, love, and support in
recent months have defied all description and have touched my heart more than I could possibly say.

I have been tremendously fortunate to have had the opportunity to be attached to the universities of Luxembourg and Warwick while completing this volume, and to have had the chance to discuss elements of its argument with some truly remarkable Renaissance scholars. Particular thanks are due to Stephen Bowd, who has perhaps done more than anyone else to enlarge my understanding of the period over the years, and to Luc Deitz, whose scholarly precision and excellent company have been genuinely inspiring. Although he is not himself a Renaissance specialist, I would also like to thank Paul Lay, whose enthusiasm for “public” history and whose unparalleled grasp of the fine balance between the scholarly and the accessible have been a vital example.

In bringing
The Ugly Renaissance
to publication, I am grateful to have had the opportunity to work with a number of exceptional people. Leanda de Lisle first gave me the nudge toward pursuing this project further, and was kind enough to provide me with the vital introduction that allowed it all to get off the ground. At Capel & Land, Rachel Conway and Romily Must have been touchingly patient and staggeringly efficient at every turn. At Doubleday, I feel extremely privileged to have been able to work with William Thomas and Coralie Hunter, editors of incomparable skill and taste, whose cheerful counsel and helpful suggestions have made the preparation of the text a sheer delight. No author could ask for more sensitive or friendly editors. And last, but most definitely not least, my agent, Georgina Capel, has been quite extraordinary. No words will quite do justice either to my gratitude or to her virtues. Her unique combination of great kindness and extreme professionalism has been both a vital spur and an invaluable source of support, while her constant encouragement and immense generosity of spirit have helped make this project a pleasure from start to finish.

N
OTES

I
NTRODUCTION
: B
ETWEEN
H
EAVEN AND
E
ARTH

Giovanni Pico della Mirandola:
The best introduction to Pico’s life remains Garin,
Giovanni Pico della Mirandola
.

“I have read in the records”:
Giovanni Pico della Mirandola,
Oration on the Dignity of Man
, trans. E. Livermore Forbes, in Cassirer, Kristeller, and Randall,
Renaissance Philosophy of Man
, 223.

“the nature of all other beings is limited”:
Ibid., 225.

“You shall have the power”:
Ibid.

1. M
ICHELANGELO’S
N
OSE

he was busy copying:
Vasari,
Lives
, 1:332.

“surpassed and vanquished the ancients”:
Ibid., 1:418.

“the work not of a young man”:
Ibid., 1:331; Wallace,
Michelangelo
, 53n4.

the envy of his schoolfellows:
Vasari,
Lives
, 1:332.

spoken derisively of Pietro’s sketches:
Cellini,
Autobiography
, 18.

“Jealous [at] seeing him more honoured”:
Vasari,
Lives
, 1:332.

“almost tore off the cartilage”:
Condivi,
Michelangelo
, 72–73.

his nose “broken and crushed”:
Vasari,
Lives
, 1:332.

lying “as if dead”:
Condivi,
Michelangelo
, 72.

The son of a comparatively modest bureaucrat:
Michelangelo’s family claimed to be able to trace an “ancient and noble lineage,” but this seems to have been little more than wishful thinking. Wallace,
Michelangelo
, 36; cf. Michelangelo,
Carteggio
, 4:249–50.

Although some early Renaissance artists:
Siena provides a number of especially interesting examples of artists who served in communal government.
Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255/60–1318/19) appears to have been a member of the Sienese Council of the People in 1289, and his name is listed in connection with two other civic bodies in 1292 and 1295. By the same token, Simone and
Donato Martini were named procurators to the papal Curia on February 8, 1340. The same city also provides examples of unusually highborn individuals becoming artists.
Bartolommeo Bulgarini (d. 1378), for instance, is listed as being of noble birth in the records of the Painters’ Guild, and his family had previously been banned from office holding on the grounds of their elevated status. Maginnis,
World of the Early Sienese Painter
, 76–82.

Giotto di Bondone, for example, was rumored:
Schwartz and Theis, “Giotto’s Father.”

Three of Duccio di Buoninsegna’s sons:
Maginnis,
World of the Early Sienese Painter
, 46–47.

autonomous creative agents endowed:
See especially Martindale,
Rise of the Artist in the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance
.