Circus 1992 In this
Quincentennial year, Columbus has become an industry unto himself. Whether
one speaks of discovery, invasion, or encounter, whether one considers the
man a hero or a villain, a visionary and adventurer or a greedy capitalist
responsible for the genocide of native Americans, it has been written,
composed, choreographed, scripted, videotaped and staged. The World’s Fair has
opened in Seville, and the Summer Olympics are about to begin in Barcelona.
Meanwhile, Universal and Paramount are racing to complete films (each to cost
between $40 and $50 million) by October. Universal’s Christopher Columbus: The Discovery directed by Alexander Salkind
includes Marlon Brando in the role of Torquemada. Brando received $5 million
but wants his name removed from the credits to protest the depiction of the
Indians in the film. Paramount’s 1492:
The Conquest of Paradise directed by Ridley Scott stars Gerard Depardieu
as Columbus, with Sigourney Weaver as Queen Isabella. Numerous conferences
devoted to various aspects of the 500th anniversary of Columbus’s voyages
were held on college campuses, and summer institutes and seminars for
educators will continue to contribute to the knowledge of this field. Major
funding agencies underwrote projects, and several exhibits focusing on 1492
and its legacies have been mounted or are currently travelling around the
country A musical, Encounter 500 or: How the Italians, Jews, Moslems, Portuguese and Spanish Encountered
the Indians 500 Years Ago with book and lyrics by internationally
acclaimed playwright and drama critic Mario Fratti, and music by Giuseppe
Murolo (Wall to Wall Press for Samuel French, Inc., 1991) begins with two
characters, Chris and Isa, who meet in the New York Public Library. This
transforms into a Royal Palace in Spain, and later the Santa Maria. The songs
include: “I Am a Spanish Woman,” “You’re Our Captain,” and “You Can’t Trust
Italians.” Musical offerings to premiere in August include Andre Hadju’s
cantata “Dreams of Spain” and composer Frank Abbinanti’s “Come una forza di
luce.” The presses have not
been idle, and publications, sourcebooks, magazines, catalogs, and special
issues continue to be cranked out. Their quality and the point of views they
espouse range from the highly implausible to the truly enlightening. Renaissance Characters, edited by Eugenio Garin and translated by Lydia G.
Cochrane (University of Chicago Press, 1991) is a timely translation of L’uomo del Rinascimento, a collection
of essays on Renaissance man first published in 1988. The Columbus industry
notwithstanding, its purpose is twofold, according to the publisher’s
preface: to contribute to the understanding of the “formation of the idea of
Europe” on the verge of the formation of its common market, and to “attempt
to portray a moment decisive for the genesis of the modern mind.” An
international team of scholars was assembled to write essays on a number of
human types or figures, exemplars who helped to shape this new age. In
another attempt to reshape the idea of a modern Europe, historians from
twelve nations of the European community collaborated on a new history of
Europe textbook. It will be required reading in some Italian schools this
fall. Garin’s types
contributed to the profound cultural changes that shaped Renaissance life in
many facets of human endeavor: the arts, sciences, politics, religion and
economics. Among the exemplars is Columbus, discussed by semiotician Tzvetan
Todorov in “Voyagers and Natives.” Todorov concentrates on the years between
1492 and 1552, (Magellan’s circumnavigation) because “Never have any other
thirty years changed the face of the globe so much” (250). Todorov’s The Conquest of America: The Question of
the Other (New York: Harper and Row, 1984) previously offered a thorough
assessment of the consequences of the encounter. Todorov positions
Columbus as the first and most famous of the great voyagers, a catalyst
rather than an incarnation of the time. His motivation was a religious one,
and therefore not “modern.” The gold would help in the reconquest of
Jerusalem, a religiously rooted and anachronistic goal. Columbus’s
perception was strongly influenced by preconception. This influenced how he
wrote about his discovery and his first contacts with “Indians.” Columbus’s
personality, his skilled observation of nature and his navigational skills
contributed to his successful enterprise, but Todorov adds “If he had not
lived in the semi-fabulous world of old narrations and prophecies (Mandeville
and Pierre d’Ailly), he never would have undertaken the voyage in the first
place” (251). A better observer of nature than of people, Columbus distinguished
between good Indians, future Christians-in-the making, and bad cannibals.
Todorov’s conclusion: “Columbus discovered America, but not the Americans”
(257). Amerigo Vespucci
produced the best travel accounts, and his name, not Columbus’s, graces the
Western Hemisphere. “It was the writer who was rewarded, not the navigator.
With Amerigo, then, we see a new type of voyager, the intellectual and the
artist” (258). Todorov further contrasts the two explorers to support his
assertion that Columbus is a man of the Middle Ages, who thinks literally,
while Vespucci is a man of the Renaissance, trained in rhetoric, aware of
cultural relativism, and whose letters seek to charm and amuse. “Columbus
was writing documents: Amerigo, literature” (259). In Marvin Lunenfeld’s
1492, Discovery, Invasion, Encounter:
Sources and Interpretations (D. C. Heath, 1991) the editor assembles
primary and secondary sources to help the reader assess the legacies of 1492.
The preface and introductory chapter nicely frame the material that is to
come: the preparation for and logbooks of the voyage, the impact of the
encounter, and an account of how mutually incompatible civilizations
attempted to understand each other. Obviously meant to be used in the
classroom—Lunenfeld includes study questions. A selection from Samuel Eliot
Morison’s Admiral of the Ocean Sea
(1942) ends with “Never again may mortal men hope to recapture the amazement,
the wonder, the delight of those October days in 1492 when the New World
gracefully yielded her virginity to the conquering Castilians.” The study
question is guaranteed to capture the amazement of the class as it attempts
to answer Lunenfeld’s tongue-in-cheek study question: “Does Morison present
the Castilian assault upon the New World as a “rape” or as a “seduction?” In the middle of
Felipe Fernández-Armesto’s very straightforward and fact-filled study, Columbus (Oxford University Press,
1991), the author coyly suggests that the only book left to write about
Columbus is one that claims he is gay. Why else would Columbus make such a
note of heroes in Plutarch who were susceptible to the “unspeakable lust”
(42)? Fernández-Armesto’s Columbus emerges as an untiring and persistent man
who conceived his plan to please his patrons. In this book, Fernández-Armesto
sweeps aside theories based on conjecture, reconstruction and speculation.
He presents “the unadorned facts.” He states in his preface: “I have tried
nothing which cannot be verified—or in some cases reasonably inferred—from
unimpeachable sources. After all, the facts are all there in Columbus’s own
writings, in letters and log-books.” Fernández-Armesto’s
Columbus emerges as “the socially ambitious, socially awkward parvenu; the
autodictat, intellectually aggressive but easily cowed; the embittered
escapee from distressing realities, the adventurer inhibited by fear of
failure—is, I believe consistent with the evidence but it would no doubt be
possible to reconstruct the image, from the same evidence, in other ways”
(vii). This is a highly readable book which very nicely places Columbus in
his Genoese context. The Genoese formed a tribal Mediterranean network whose
expatriates welcomed and helped one of their own. Their adaptability made
them excellent merchants. The statelessness of the Genoese explains much
about Columbus the man; the ease with which he approaches foreign sovereigns,
the fact that he writes in Spanish rather than in Genoese or Italian, and his
desire to establish a dynasty. Fernández-Armesto
warns against “Imaginative reconstructions of what Columbus ‘must’ have been
thinking or doing at moments when the sources are silent or ignored are made
the basis for vacuous conclusions” (preface, ix). Although these charges
seemed to be leveled at the likes of Madariaga and Morison, Stephen
Greenblatt takes this very tack. Marvel and wonder
form the central images in Greenblatt’s Marvelous
Possessions: The Wonder of the New
World (University of Chicago Press, 1991). This scholarly work focuses on
representational practices of the Europeans as they tried to make sense of
and describe the New World to their fellow countryman. According to the
author, the Europeans felt superior because they had writing. And it was the
very lack of writing, as Todorov reminds us, that precipitated the beginning
of the end for a people whose history was bound in memory. Wonder is the initial
European response to the New World, and Columbus’s voyage initiates a century
of intense wonder. Greenblatt brings the concerns of literary criticism to
illuminate texts such as Mandeville’s Travels,
and Columbus’s letter to Santangel. We are told that Columbus read Marco Polo
and Mandeville, not as a merchant or a pilgrim, but “as an agent on a mission
representing a state caught up in the Reconquista” (53). Greenblatt sees
Columbus repeatedly reacting with wonder, seeing the marvelous as closely
linked in Christian and heroic rhetoric to heroic enterprise. The abundant
and often overuse use of the word “maravilla,” however, may be part of
Columbus’s limited lexicon, a shorthand that becomes cliché in his accounts.
Columbus as rhetorician left much to be admired. Historians agree that
Columbus’s Spanish prose was workmanlike. Even Fernández-Armesto points out
that Columbus often made laughable errors in his writings. Thus the
overdependance on this word and the fact that Columbus repeatedly is
frustrated in his descriptions should be taken at face value. Greenblatt’s book
often presents conjecture as history. Speculations such as, “The production
of wonder then is not only an expression of the effect that the voyage had
upon Columbus but a calculated rhetorical strategy, the evocation of an
aesthetic response in the service of a legitimation process”(73) fill its
pages. Two pages later he concludes, “The marvelous functions for Columbus as
the agent of conversion: a fluid mediator between outside and inside,
spiritual and carnal, the realm of objects and the subjective impressions made
by those objects, the recalcitrant otherness of a new world and the
emotional effect aroused by the otherness” (75). This book is written for the
academic community and presupposes a familiarity with and acceptance of the
concepts of new historicism. Any number of conclusions could be derived from
such a stance, as Fernández-Armesto reminds us. A reader seeking an
in-depth account of Columbus’s entries, and a treatment which examines not
only what Columbus saw in the New World and how he saw it would be better
served by reading Jeremy Moyle’s 1985 translation of Antonello Gerbi’s work, Nature in the New World: From Christopher Columbus
to Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo (University of Pittsburgh Press). Gerbi
takes into account that what Columbus reports is strongly influenced by his
preconceptions, experiences, and expectations. Gerbi notes how the flora and
fauna of America immediately attracted Columbus’s attention and even managed
to distract him from the search for gold, producing reactions in him that
already contain in microcosm all the later attitudes of the European in
America. We can also see the Admiral’s limited vocabulary and frustration at
the lack of an appropriate lexicon as he tried to describe flora and fauna.
In these entries things are either like they are in Spain, or they are not. A number of nicely
illustrated “coffee table” books have appeared. Zvi Dor-Ner’s Columbus and the Age of Discovery
(William Morrow, 1991) is the companion volume to the 7-part series by the
same name he produced for PBS. The book’s seven chapters coincide with the
program, and its lavishly illustrated pages and readable text convey the full
sweep of the adventure and its consequences and continuations. The authors
remind us that the naming of the space shuttle Columbia is a symbol of
another human quest for knowledge and profit, power and glory. The Seeds of Change: A Quincentennial Commemoration is a companion book to the Smithsonian
Institution’s exhibit of the same name and shows how the world became a very
different place even after the first contact. This is the story of the
transfer of plants, animals, and diseases, and how they changed the world,
for better or worse. The exchange includes the cultures and contributions of
Africa. The text is nicely illustrated. Steven King and Liliana Campos
Dudley, authors of the last chapter, urge the reader to ponder the
far-reaching consequences of global change in the future, such as AIDS,
deforestation, and conservation. It will be
interesting to see how 2092 will be celebrated and how the reputation of the
Admiral of the Ocean Sea fares by then. RoseAnna
Mueller Columbia College—Chicago |