Cosmology Bus

The Life and Trial of Giordano Bruno

In my last post I mentioned the philosophy and political skills of Nicholas of Cusa, or Casunus, who in the mid-15th Century carefully introduced the idea of beings living on other worlds in the extraterrestrial life debate and later became a Roman Catholic cardinal.

Not all who followed Cusanus and linked cosmology with life beyond Earth had the same political savvy or were so highly regarded by the Latin Church.

Campo de' Fiori. Photograph by Ralph Gross. Used with permission

This plaza, the Campo de' Fiori (Field of Flowers) in Rome, was the site where a Dominican priest and philosopher named Giordano Bruno was burned at the stake for heresy, blashphemy, and other crimes on February 17, 1600. From his ordainment at age 24 in Naples to his execution at age 52, his life provides insights into the Holy See's limits of tolerance during a critical time in human history.

Bruno (1548-1600), whose cast bronze figure these days looks down on carts of fruits and vegetables, happened to live his most creative years while Western cosmology began its gradual and transforming shift from a geocentric (Earth-centered) view of the heavens to a heliocentric (Sun-centered) one. This change in perspective, and particularly the astronomy and mathematics behind it, took about 1,800 yearsto develop. Until then, most people who thought the Earth was the center of everything seen and unseen in the Universe were quite comfortable about what they believed they understood. Including the governing heirarchy of the Roman Catholic Church.

As a young theology student in Naples, Giordanno upset the Dominican brothers by (among other things) reading forbidden philosophical works. At age 28 he left the city to avoid charges of heresy, and then wandered around Europe for more than a decade. His reputation grew as an outspoken philosopher, mathematician, and an expert on memorization techniques and the hidden wisdom of the occult. Henry III of France was so impressed by him that he helped arrange a lecturship for Bruno. By the time he was 44 he'd published about 20 philosophical works and plays and met Elizabeth I. Eventually he returned to Italy, and that's when the trouble started.

Interestingly, it wasn't Bruno's legacy in print and his generally unrepentent attitudes about his own personal philosophy that first caught the attention of church authorities. It was a complaint from his then patron and host in Venice, an aristocrat named Zuane Mocenigo, whom Bruno was turoring. Apparently Mocenigo thought Bruno was going to share some juicy details of the occult. When he didn't the two had a falling out and Mocenigo got even by referring Bruno to the Venitian Inquisition. Eight months later he was transferred to Rome.

The Congregation of the Holy Office of the Inquisition was established a few years before Bruno was born. Its purpose in all of its local variants, Rome included, was to combat heresy, or the promoting of ideas that conflicted with official Church dogma. With time in its favor the Roman Inquisition poured through Bruno's published works and discovered many passages that directly and indirectly challenged accepted beliefs. Sample excerpts from his writings in English translation appear below: 

There is no absolute up or down, as Aristotle taught; no absolute position in space; but the position of a body is relative to that of other bodies. Everywhere there is incessent relative change in position throughout the universe, and the observer is always at the center of things.

There is a single general space, a single vast immensity which we may freely call void: in it are unnumerable globes like this on which we live and grow, this space we declare to be infinite, since neither reason, convenience, sense perception nor nature assign to it a limit. 

God is infinite, so His universe must be too. Thus is the excellence of God magnified and the greatness of His kingdom made manifest; He is glorified not in one, but in countless suns; not in a single earth, a single world, but in a thousand thousand, I say in an infinity of worlds.

Three excerpts out of context do not a heretic make, but his cosmological writings and statements on the plurality of inhabited worlds almost certainly worked against him. Bruno's imprisonment and trial lasted seven years, during which he was frequently interrogated and tortured in order to obtain a full recantation of his ideas. He steadfastly refused to do this but in the end offered to recant some of what he had written. Anticipating a death sentence he appealed directly to Pope Clement VIII, but the Holy Father pronounced him guilty of heresy and other charges. All of his writings were added to the Index of Forbidden Books. One account of his execution reports his mouth was filled with an iron gag made with spikes to pierce his tongue and palate. The flames came next.

Today Bruno is usually remembered as a martyr of modern science and less often as the person he truly was: a fiercely independent and creative early champion of Copernican cosmology who, wisely or not, cared little about political correctness.

Fortunately for us all, his ideas about astronomy and the nature of the cosmos were known to varying degrees by Kepler, Galileo, and others who could appreciate their innovative qualities.

Next stop: tbd

The portrait above is often assumed to be of Giordano Bruno, but its authenticity is unclear. It was engraved by C. Meyer in Paris and dates to the first quarter of the 19th Century. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Banner bus photo credit: Dorothy Delina Porter

 

Newberry Seminar Update: "Are We Alone? . . ."

Preparations are well underway for my seminar at the Newberry Library, which begins June 2. Registrations are coming in and the list of things I want to get done before walking into the second-floor classroom is gradually getting smaller. Keyword: gradually (by this stage in life I've learned there's never enough time to do all the things I'd like to do in the way I'd like to do them.) Anyway, I'm excited about this opportunity to share with others interested in the rich history of the extraterrestrial life debate and I can't wait to get it rolling. It's going to be a fun nine weeks.

I've decided to post here some additional material relevant to the seminar each week for the duration of the class. This will in part address the challenge of not having enough time on Tuesday evenings to cover the wide range of topics that could be mentioned. Yes, there's that much material. Hardly surprising when we stop to remember that human beings have written about the idea of life elsewhere in cosmos for more than two millennia. 

Several weeks ago I prepared a postcard to help publicize the class. This was the front side:

The reverese says "If so, you're in very good company . . ." followed by the seminar title: Are We Alone?: Life beyond Earth in Western Religion, Science, and Popular Culture from Aristotle to H.G. Wells, together with all the date, time, place information -- and how to register.

The illustration, which is in the public domain, is part of an anonymous wood engraving often called the Flammarion Woodcut because it first appeared in a volume by Camille Flammarion (1842-1925), a French astronomer who also wrote books for a general audience. The work in which it appears, L'atmosphere: meteorolgie populaire ("The Atmosphere: Popular Meteorology"), was published in Paris in 1888, and to this day no one knows who did the illustration, or when, or what it means. Some think the engraving depicts a medieval pilgrim looking past the visible sky at the hidden structure of the universe, which is probably as good an explanation as any.

The important thing is that people seem to like it. I'll be interested to learn if any of the cards left in area bookstores and coffee houses by my niece, Caroline, or me result in a registration. After all, not everyone hears the library's promotions for seminars on WBEZ or receives a brochure in the mail.

Meanwhile, I'm preparing a new set of pages here on CB that will give details on the weekly seminar topics, assigned readings, and more (see Sidebar). These should be up soon! Please check back and let me know what you think.

As always, comments are greatly appreciated!

Next stop: tbd 

Banner bus photo credit: Dorothy Delina Porter.

Newberry News!

Some good news just can't wait to be shared.

I just heard from the Newberry Library in Chicago that my proposal to teach a public seminar on the extraterrestrial life debate was accepted for the Summer 2009 session! I'm really excited about this for many reasons, not the least of which are that I enjoy teaching, and the subject matter nicely complements a book project I've been researching for some time.

Are We Alone?: Life beyond Earth in Western Religion, Science, and Popular Culture from Aristotle to Lowell will be offered over nine weeks from June 2 through July 28 on Tuesday evenings from 5:45 to 7:45 pm. 

The seminar will explore why, despite the lack of proof, nearly two-thirds of Americans surveyed in 2005 believe that life exists on other planets and eight in ten believe there are intelligent beings more advanced than us. How did these views come about? What's their heritage? To answer these questions we'll review the major developments in the plurality of worlds debate from Antiquity through the early 20th Century, drawing on a wide variety of primary sources from philosophy, religion, literature, and science. I know it's going to be an interesting experience because the subject of life beyond Earth has such a natural appeal and most people aren't aware of the history behind the idea. I also expect it to be fun!

I'll post more on the seminar in weeks ahead. Meanwhile, you can check out the Newberry's current seminar schedule and past courses here.

 Vintage postcard of Newberry Library and Washington Square Park. 

Banner bus photo credit: Dorothy Delina Porter.

A 17th-Century Bestseller

The bus is rerouting to acknowledge last night's successful launch and deployment of NASA's Kepler spacecraft, the first mission in human history capable of identifying Earth-sized rocky planets orbiting stars outside our solar system at distances from those stars where liquid water may exist on the surface.

Liftoff of the Delta II rocket carrying NASA's Kepler speacecraft, March 6, 2009. Credit: NASA/Jack Pfaller.

A nuts and bolts description of the Kepler mission was the subject of a post several weeks ago, but this take has more to do with its technological promise and potential: what will we think if some -- or perhaps many -- rocky worlds in the presumed habitable zones around stars are found? How will people respond?

The answer, of course, depends on who is doing the responding. It's a safe bet that Kepler team members and planetary scientists will be ecstatic. Reactions among members of the public worldwide will vary from complete indifference to the kind of excited curiosity that inspires a lasting commitment to learn more, and everything in between. I'm sure some will ponder the religious or spiritual implications of what Kepler's discoveries suggest but a majority will likely focus on the science. The 24-hour news cycle will make the most of any early results, but Kepler discoveries by themselves probably won't dominate headlines more than a few hours.

And why should they? After all, Kepler isn't designed to deliver proof of life beyond Earth, but rather important new information about its possibility.

This occured to me because recently I've been reading about Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle (1657-1757), a French writer who, at the age of 23, created a literary sensation with a book about life on other worlds. His Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds (Entretiens sur la pluralité des mondes) was the first major work written on the subject that broadly presented the science behind Copernican and Cartesian cosmology to a general audience. Published anonymously early in 1686 in the form of five dialogues between a philosopher and a marquise, its entertaining prose was attributed to the young man from Rouen within months. Fontenelle moved to Paris the following year, added a sixth dialogue, and saw his Conversations land on the Index Librorum Prohibitorum.

Tiger of the Stripe edition of Fontenelle's Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds, transl. by Elizabeth Gunning and rev. by Jerome De Lalande (London, 2008).

No doubt its banned status sold more than a few copies. (The book was on the Catholic Index of prohibited publications for most of its life, even as late as 1900.) According to science and cultural historians Michael Crowe and Karl Guthke, three English translations were available by 1688. Four more appeared later. Before Fontenelle's death in 1757 thirty-three French editions had been published. His book was also translated into Danish, Dutch, Greek, Italian, Polish, Russian, Spanish, and Swedish. Guthke writes:

"For decades these evening conversations between the gallant scientist and his eager pupil the marquise, in the rococco gardens of a French chateau, featured in the everyday talk of educated people, and not least of women."

In fact, Fontenelle was among the first writers to specifically acknowledge women's intelligence in scientific subjects; the marquise is a full participant in the Conversations. It's also important to remember this was a time when very few women had access to formal education.

In terms of the extraterrestrial life debate, Fontenelle's contributions aren't limited to his great success in popularizing the idea of a plurailty of worlds as a literary figure and amateur scientist. In the Conversations he also inadertently raises important philosophical issues while making a conscious effort to avoid strictly theological questions. Guthke explains how the book reveals perspectives on topics such as scientific inference by analogy, anthropocentrism, and ambivalence toward God and Nature.   

How interesting that at the beginning of what we call the Enlightenment, in a much different world than what we know today, so many people were enthralled by a bestseller that described how Venus, Jupiter, Earth's moon, planets orbiting other stars (suggesting a plurailty of solar systems), and even comets were inhabited by creatures not unlike ourselves.

More than four centuries later, as Kepler begins a scientific mission unlike any before it, our capacity to be fascinated by the idea of life beyond Earth, in whatever form, remains as large as ever. 

Fortunately, we are also that much more accustomed to waiting.

Next stop: Science and Religion Frameworks

Banner bus photo credit: Dorothy Delina Porter.