Word, Image and Experience: Dynamics of Miracle and Self-Perception in Sixth-Century Gaul (review)

The seventeen published articles by Giselle de Nie reproduced in this collection continue the work begun in her book published in 1987, Views from a Many-Windowed Tower. De Nie studies the imagination of sixth-century Romano-Gallic culture as revealed in the images and metaphors produced by its writers to describe miracles, dreams, and "the self." Her essays highlight such interesting images as contagion, the body, jewels, and broken lamps to delve into the hidden meanings of texts which often appear on the surface to record "naive" miracle stories. Indeed, in the examples de Nie has chosen to explore there is no such thing as a simple miracle story. Viewed under the lens of her analytical method, these stories reveal a complex language of images accessible to those with the insight and critical tools to understand them. In order to accomplish this work, De Nie's text and footnotes are replete with references to beliefs and images in other cultures and religions in which she sees useful parallels. Furthermore, she argues that these insights can be used to fathom issues of identity and self-awareness in the writings of Gregory of Tours and Venantius Fortunatus in particular. This self-awareness is exhibited in an "absence of a delimited interior space, of a clear boundary between 'self' and one's interior thoughts and feelings, and the visible (or invisible) 'outside' world" (p. xi). The overriding idea here is that if only we could better understand Gregory's way of thinking and modes of expression as coherent on an "imagistic" level, we would discern a great uniformity of thought behind the man's work and those of some of his contemporaries, even though, as she explains, such descriptions are "usually unintentional" on the part of their authors (p. x).

I suspect one is either wholly convinced or wholly unconvinced by this methodology. One problem relates to the issue of intentionality, or lack thereof. Often de Nie states that her authors intended or did not intend a particular meaning, but often this is asserted as fact more than it is demonstrated textually. The reader may be left to suspect that the coherence of thought which for de Nie underlies the images and metaphors employed by these sixth-century authors is not as clearly present in Gregory of Tours' works or in sixth-century culture as a whole. Furthermore, in order to uncover the meaning of particular images or thought processes, de Nie provides the reader with abundant parallels with other cultures and with insights from modern psychology. These parallels, which to some may appear largely suggestive, are often layered upon one another without a great deal of historical justification so that the result is often more interesting than instructive.

De Nie's approach may also be seen as a defense of Gregory of Tours against those who downplay the value of his writings. Yet where de Nie finds coherence in Gregory's oeuvre, another reader will find that Gregory betrays all the inconsistencies of thinking and varying perspectives of a prolific writer whose career spanned many decades. For example, sometimes Gregory confesses in his writings that he does not understand what he experiences or what he sees. Such admissions of self-doubt, and what they may imply for cross-cultural imagistic coherence are not adequately dealt with here. Ultimately, the extent to which one agrees with de Nie's analysis may hinge on the view one has of Gregory's writings as a historical source. So, have we truly achieved a better understanding of Gregory's intentions? That is not always clear. But, as de Nie candidly points out, her aim is to do more than simply illuminate the intentions or meanings of these writers to historians; it is her hope that the exercise of her method will allow us, her readers, to rediscover a dimension of ourselves...