<< 1 >>
Rating: 
Summary: a thorough guide
Review: One of the more popular modern writing crazes is to take an object from everyday life and to dissect it : the materials used to make it; its history; its uses; etc.. Margaret Visser's Geometry of Love is a fairly representative example of this genre, better than some, no worse than most. In it she concentrates her attention upon the Sant'Agnese fuori le Mura Church near Rome. By the time you finish the book you know everything you could possibly want to know about this church, which most of us have never heard of and will never see, except for one thing : why are churches in general, or this one in particular, unique ?Much of the book is interesting, some sections are even fascinating, but, perhaps because of the nature of the task she's set herself, describing the church as a physical structure, it never comes alive as a house of God. Admittedly, as a Baptist, I've always considered church buildings themselves to be secondary to the function they serve, as a gathering place for like-minded worshippers. But I found the book to be something like the parable of the three blind men describing an elephant, and Visser to have failed to make the church anything more than the sum of its parts. In his marvelous study, Mont Saint Michel and Chartres, Henry Adams observed two of the great churches of Christendom and perceived not merely their unity, but the unity of the culture that produced them. Margaret Visser looks at Saint Agnes and sees the particular features of the building. The difference in perception seems significant. GRADE : C
Rating:
Summary: a thorough guide
Review: One of the more popular modern writing crazes is to take an object from everyday life and to dissect it : the materials used to make it; its history; its uses; etc.. Margaret Visser's Geometry of Love is a fairly representative example of this genre, better than some, no worse than most. In it she concentrates her attention upon the Sant'Agnese fuori le Mura Church near Rome. By the time you finish the book you know everything you could possibly want to know about this church, which most of us have never heard of and will never see, except for one thing : why are churches in general, or this one in particular, unique ? Much of the book is interesting, some sections are even fascinating, but, perhaps because of the nature of the task she's set herself, describing the church as a physical structure, it never comes alive as a house of God. Admittedly, as a Baptist, I've always considered church buildings themselves to be secondary to the function they serve, as a gathering place for like-minded worshippers. But I found the book to be something like the parable of the three blind men describing an elephant, and Visser to have failed to make the church anything more than the sum of its parts. In his marvelous study, Mont Saint Michel and Chartres, Henry Adams observed two of the great churches of Christendom and perceived not merely their unity, but the unity of the culture that produced them. Margaret Visser looks at Saint Agnes and sees the particular features of the building. The difference in perception seems significant. GRADE : C
Rating: 
Summary: Religion: A*Live* Imagining
Review: One of the reviews on the back of this book states that every reader will be able to pinpoint at the exact point that s/he becomes hooked by the text. For me, this point wasn't until about halfway through the book, in chapter 5, when I realized that a reading of a church building is not like a reading of a book: the imagination presences itself front-and-center, rather than lurking in the background, masked by a self-proclaimed "objectivity". The religious imagination embodies itself in the artwork, architecture and ceremony that *is* the church.
This book is a thick narrative that works on multiple levels: architectural and artistic, theological and socio-historical. The church building itself is far from static; in letting the church speak of what is timeless, it itself enters into time: ancient altars and recent restorations, classical Byzantine mosaics and Baroque-inspired paintings all inhabit the same space of the church. Each generation, each culture has done something to become a part of the history of the church, and therefore a part of the next generation. The church becomes a shared narrative, so to speak: a structural representating of communion.
The book functions as both an introduction to Christianity, and more specifically Roman Catholicism. Visser situates her text within the larger history of the Roman church, a world filled with saints and mystics, ascetics, martyrs and power struggles, sacraments and quasi-magical popular beliefs. It is a world in which the dead still have a presence in the present, and in which heaven and earth meet at particular times and in particular places - and more in the church than anywhere else.
What appears more than anything else in Visser's work is that of the Roman Catholic imagination. Although certain theologians were largely systematic, the wider history of the Roman Catholic church speaks a different story: sacred time and sacred space, and an experience of the mysterium tremendum. It is within this sense of the sacred, embodied temporally and spatially in the liturgy and the sacraments, and continually witnessed to by the church building, which holds the people whose histories give rise to it, its development and change, restoration and remembering over time.
Visser's work is a brialliant book that will be enriched by those who come with prior knowledge, and will enrich those who pursue more knowledge afterwards. One will learn about Christian theology and history, and its socio-historical imaginings throughout time. Visser's text works outside of simplistic - even if rigorous - textual analyses, and looks to history and its representations in space and time. A brialliant work for those with heart, mind and spirit: imagination.
Rating:
Summary: geometry in architecture, history and faith
Review: Sant'Agnese fuori le Mura Church stands just outside the old walled city of Rome, built, at its lowest levels, into the catacombs which surrounded the city. It is dedicated to a 4th Century Saint, a 12 year old slain for her refusal to marry the son of a Roman Prefect. Built in the 7th Century and continuously modified, it incorporates the layers of aesthetic, cultural, theological influences of the centuries, organically revealing Rome's tumultuous history. It is galvanized, though, by the reverence for this child martyr by its artisans. Visser's study is an exploration of the physical manifestation of the mysteries of faith. Like the church itself the book is more than the sum of its parts. The author searches for context and meaning, through the ecclesiastical history behind each of the church's major components-- nave, narthex, altar, tomb--. The author's descriptions convey the pageantry and the sometimes violent drama of the little church succinctly. Difficult to categorize, it is an in-depth look at how the church's schema reflected the attitudes of its congregants. Visser presents a spiritual anthropology measured in the church's marble, masonry and frescoes. She synthesizes the form and symbolism of its architecture. The book is filled with anecdotes of the inspiration Sant'Agnese has had on the faithful, vividly exposing its human dimensions. This intensively researched, rigorously constructed book is a fascinating read, be your interest historical, religious or artistic.
Rating:
Summary: St. Agnes and an altared world
Review: The book's subtitle is oddly inappropriate: Sant'Agnese fuori le Mura in Rome is hardly an "ordinary" chuch, but rather one of Christianity's most historic. It was built in late antiquity over the burial site of St. Agnes, reputedly a 12-year-old martyr executed for refusing to renounce her faith -- ironically, only a few years before Christianity was adopted by the emperor Constantine as the official religion. Among the items of interest are the mosaic in the apse, columns from ancient Roman buildings, statuary, the altar, fragments of wall inscriptions, the crypt holding the remains of Agnes and Emerentiana (a similarly martyred girl), and catacombs.
Margaret Visser has a worthy mission in writing the book. She wants to help us see the objects in Sant'Agnese not in purely artistic or archeological terms, but as aspects of a religious faith that once turned the western world completely around and, she trusts, is a living force today. As she takes us on a guided "tour" through the building and its surroundings, she muses on the philosophical and spiritual implications that they have embodied down through the centuries.
There is no doubt that Visser is both knowledgeable about the history of Christianity and has meditated long over the palimpsest of meanings reflected by practically every surface in the church. For readers (like me) with many gaps in their understanding of traditional Christian iconography, her observations can be striking. It had never occurred to me, for example, that Christianity took over the idea of an altar from earlier religions, with one remarkably humane difference. Before, an altar was always a place where living beings were sacrificed. Christianity abolished that distasteful practice, but kept the altar as a reminder of another kind of sacrifice, that which its founder had made for the sake of humanity. As Visser discusses this momentous change, it is easy to be swept along with her in admiration for one of early Christianity's practices that suggests a deep and powerful love for God's creatures.
Visser is almost certainly a Roman Catholic, though she never explicitly says so, but she is clearly keen to uncover meanings in the church's furnishings that will resonate with all kinds of Christians and non-Christians. Nevertheless, although she discovers many higher octaves of significance that have universal appeal, some fine doctrinal points she lingers over will tire the patience of readers with no taste for theology.
Visser's ruminations about the interior meanings of concepts such as the circle and certain numbers are occasionally obscure, and in her determination to probe every layer of symbolism in each object she can seem to be almost free associating. Most readers will probably find paragraphs or sections that will invite skimming.
Those reservations aside, I found Visser to be a fine travel companion for visiting Sant'Agnese. She helps us understand what these mementos mean, and how they are reminders that even in a time like that of the late Roman empire, when intolerance and cruelty were standard operating procedure, there were still those who turned toward the light -- and ever since, those who have remembered and honored them.
Rating:
Summary: what lies above and beneath
Review: The other reviewers on this page have admirably described this book's content, strengths, and weaknesses. As an inveterate visitor of ancient churches, what I've found invaluable is Visser's thorough lesson on how to read a church, especially an Italian Catholic one. I disagree that Sant'Agnese fuori le Mure is an "ordinary" church; its layers of history, folklore, language, mysticism, and symbolism have accumulated over many centuries, and the building itself is a treasure. Reading Geometry of Love answered many of the questions I had about religious, archaeological, and artistic traditions and also raised some new ones. But now when I enter an old Italian church I am better equipped to notice and interpret its many layers of nuance and meaning.
Rating:
Summary: A quintessential read!
Review: The relatively simple Sant'Agnese fuori le Mura just outside the walls of Rome comes under the scrutiny of history, theology, anthropology & folklore to illuminate its physical & spiritual architecture. Margaret Visser guides us through this organic aged basilica, from its apse to its nave, its catacombs to its campanile, she opens our eyes to its symbolism, its layers of religious expression, the Christian fascination with lambs & virgins, the meaning of martyrdom & the provenance of relics. Effortlessly, this tranquil & earnest author moves us back through the ages to reveal, like the ancient stones she walks past, the erstwhile Roman attitudes toward our mortal remains & then through Christianity's infancy, in all its forms & purposes. Part archaeology, part love story, part poetry & part tourist guide, The Geometry of Love is a quintessential read & I fell in love with columns all over again! A superb example of writing about what you know - this author bequeaths us a unique & enfolding account of the why, where, who, when & what of a charming house of worship.
Rating:
Summary: A quintessential read!
Review: The relatively simple Sant'Agnese fuori le Mura just outside the walls of Rome comes under the scrutiny of history, theology, anthropology & folklore to illuminate its physical & spiritual architecture. Margaret Visser guides us through this organic aged basilica, from its apse to its nave, its catacombs to its campanile, she opens our eyes to its symbolism, its layers of religious expression, the Christian fascination with lambs & virgins, the meaning of martyrdom & the provenance of relics. Effortlessly, this tranquil & earnest author moves us back through the ages to reveal, like the ancient stones she walks past, the erstwhile Roman attitudes toward our mortal remains & then through Christianity's infancy, in all its forms & purposes. Part archaeology, part love story, part poetry & part tourist guide, The Geometry of Love is a quintessential read & I fell in love with columns all over again! A superb example of writing about what you know - this author bequeaths us a unique & enfolding account of the why, where, who, when & what of a charming house of worship.
Rating:
Summary: Beautiful, yes -- but limited by a lousy format
Review: Visser's spectacular language surpasses even her previous efforts, as she delves here into the majesty of faith and the intricate worship spaces we build. She sheds the usual anthropologist's garb of objectivity, admitting from the start that she is passionate about her subject, and the work is stronger for it. However, I eventually got annoyed that there were no illustrations provided to help the reader along (it may be just the Canadian edition that suffers from this tragic flaw). As visual as her language is, this book proves the maxim that a picture is worth 1000 words. Those thousand words can be as beautiful as they like, but sometimes, dummies like me need a picture as well. Reading about the spectacular details of St Agnes' church, I got more and more frustrated. Visser presents each column, each section of ceiling and floor, each mosaic tile, with such loving detail that I needed to examine them -- but lacking the plane fare to Rome, that's a nearly-impossible dream. Flipping from her descriptions of columns to the front cover hoping to catch a glimpse of them was eventually too much for me, and I returned this book to the library unfinished (this almost never happens). A book of this quality deserves glossy, full-colour illustrations. Without the multimedia assist, you're going to find this book to be dry and tough going, even if you've enjoyed Visser's work in past. But still... I've recently discovered that Visser has her own website with many small images from the church ... Perhaps I'll print out the pictures from the website and curl up with this book again at some point. Her language is so lovely, it may be worth another shot.
Rating:
Summary: Beautiful, yes -- but limited by a lousy format
Review: Visser's spectacular language surpasses even her previous efforts, as she delves here into the majesty of faith and the intricate worship spaces we build. She sheds the usual anthropologist's garb of objectivity, admitting from the start that she is passionate about her subject, and the work is stronger for it. However, I eventually got annoyed that there were no illustrations provided to help the reader along (it may be just the Canadian edition that suffers from this tragic flaw). As visual as her language is, this book proves the maxim that a picture is worth 1000 words. Those thousand words can be as beautiful as they like, but sometimes, dummies like me need a picture as well. Reading about the spectacular details of St Agnes' church, I got more and more frustrated. Visser presents each column, each section of ceiling and floor, each mosaic tile, with such loving detail that I needed to examine them -- but lacking the plane fare to Rome, that's a nearly-impossible dream. Flipping from her descriptions of columns to the front cover hoping to catch a glimpse of them was eventually too much for me, and I returned this book to the library unfinished (this almost never happens). A book of this quality deserves glossy, full-colour illustrations. Without the multimedia assist, you're going to find this book to be dry and tough going, even if you've enjoyed Visser's work in past. But still... I've recently discovered that Visser has her own website with many small images from the church ... Perhaps I'll print out the pictures from the website and curl up with this book again at some point. Her language is so lovely, it may be worth another shot.
<< 1 >>
|
