The Study
The Study: The Inner Life of Renaissance Libraries, Andrew Hui. Princeton University Press (ISBN: 9780691243320) 2024.
Summary: Traces the Renaissance study through the lives of bibliophiles, artistic portrayals, and the darker side of bibliomania.
“When evening comes, I return to my home, and I go into my study; and on the thresh-hold, I take off my everyday clothes, which are covered in mud and mire,and I put on regal and curial robes; and dressed in a more appropriate manner I enter into the ancient courts of ancient men and am welcomed by them kindly, and there I taste the food that alone is mine, and for which I was born; and there I am not ashamed to speak to them, to ask them the reasons for their actions; and they, in their humanity, answer me; and for four hours I feel no boredom,I dismiss every affliction, I no longer fear poverty nor do I tremble at the thought of death; I become completely part of them.”
― Niccolò Machiavelli
Machiavelli describes the dream of many bibliophiles. A study, or library, where we may retreat from the world, and for a space of time, keep company with other minds, some in conversation and others, silently looking on, waiting their turn. Andrew Hui explores this dream, and its realization by Renaissance humanists in their studiolo
He begins by tracing the development from the monastic cell to the Renaissance studies of Petrarch, Machiavelli, and Montaigne. In the case of the latter, the study becomes a circular tower, with quotations inscribed on the ceiling beams. He accumulated over a thousand volumes, a stupendous number for the time. and he recognizes that each reader reads something different in the works of others. They read themselves.
Hui turns to Renaissance painters and notes the curious portrayals of both St. Jerome and the Virgin Mary as not only saints but bibliophiles. It was particularly intriguing to consider figure after figure of paintings of the Annunciation with Mary holding or reading a book. Likewise, Durer, Rembrandt and others portray Jerome laboring among his books.
There is a darker side of bibliophilia. Too many books or the wrong sort of books might lead to a special kind of insanity, bibliomanias of various sorts. One might fall into an abyss of knowledge. Hui explores this theme through the madness of Don Quixote, which began with an addiction to books. Prospero neglected his dukedom for his library where he became engrossed in sorcery, which he use to survive when exiled by his usurping brother to an island with his daughter. Finally, Hui considers Faustus whose reading brought him to despair and ultimate damnation.
Hui takes us not only on a tour of renaissance libraries, real and imagined. He also takes us on a tour of the inner life of those who sought refuge in them. He reveals the fine line between illumination and solace, and insanity and madness. Our books may take us into a deeper perception of reality. Or they may lead us down rabbit holes of unreality. I couldn’t help wonder if solitude led some into more fruitful social engagement and others into isolation. But is this a function of our books or ourselves? It was curious that the bibliomanes were all fictional, the bibliophiles were historic figures. Yet who of us, who love books, haven’t wondered about the dangers of going over the edge? Hui’s study, thus explores not only the inner sanctum of the Renaissance studiolo. He explores the inner sanctum of the dedicate reader.