Customer Reviews

The Yellow Cross: The Story of the Last Cathars

5 star:		(6)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Unlike aspects of clothing that set individuals apart and indicate high status or clan affiliation, yellow crosses, like the yellow stars worn by Jews in Nazi Germany, or Hester's `Scarlet Letter' signaled the wearer was viewed as degraded by society. In the case of yellow crosses, the demotion resulted from a conviction for heresy-per the Inquisition conducted by the Roman Catholic Church in Medieval France. Punishment for heresy in the 14th Century included any or all of several possibilities: burning at the stake; imprisonment under harsh conditions; confiscation of property; and wearing yellow crosses.

Weis' story is about the Cathars of Montillou. He does not provide a detailed examination of the theological differences between Cathar and Roman Catholic beliefs. Nor does he write about the better known period of Cathar persecution involving the Albigensian Crusades and the destruction of Montsegur in southern France about 100 years earlier. And, whereas Malcolm Lambert's THE CATHARS "goes broad" providing a good overview of the "heretical" movement from it's inception to it's survival in Bosnia under the Orthodox Christian Church, Weis' goes deep, focusing on the lives of a few Cathars from Languedoc during the years 1290-1329.

He notes this historical period included the rise of Robert the Bruce in Scotland, the persecution of the Templars by Philip the "Good" in northern France, and the conflict between the Guelphs and Ghiblines in Italy. Whereas other historians link the destruction of the Cathars to the political situation of the day, and/or act as apologists for the Church, Weis does not. There is no doubt where his sympathies lie and that he supports secular government and religious toleration. There is also no doubt that this story is as salient in contemporary times as it was 700 years ago. As the bumper sticker says, the last time we mixed religion and politics, people got burned at the stake.

Using "court" transcriptions based on witness testimony recorded in Pamiers in the early 14th century, Weis breathes life into the Cathars of Montillou who perished years ago-some in the Inquisitor's flames, others shackled in prison, and a few in their own beds. Their voices were recorded by religious scribes who witnessed the Inquisition and survive in a folio buried until recently in the Vatican archives (unlike Fournier's old bones that were unearthed and burned by the "Citoyens" of the French Revolution) - a folio the meticulous Inquisitor (later Pope Benoit XII) prepared as a reminder of his success. Weis has done a fabulous job of reconstructing events by cross referencing the material with other documents. Much as a trial lawyer might do for the defense, he use the material collected by the prosecution to show another side.

It is easy to consign people who lived long ago to an anonymous pigeonhole and difficult to become outraged with those who made them suffer. However, just as William Wallace's biographer produced the book that led to "Braveheart", Weis overcomes the challenge of elapsed time. He depicts real men and women leading real lives-from the bread they bake to the beds they make. The Cathars appear to have been a peaceable people. They were weavers and clothing makers, shepherds and turnip growers. They did not proselytize nor did they persecute "other" Christians. Whether you agree with their world view or not, you cannot escape feeling for them.

Even though his sympathies are clearly with the Cathars, Weis' writing is even-handed. There are no graphic descriptions of flesh consumed by flames to incite anti-Catholicism. On the other hand, more than one "randy" priest makes an appearance. Weis visited Montillou and all the other places described in Fournier's folio and includes photographs and maps illustrating these location. He includes everything from the arrangement of houses, fountains, fields, forests, churches and other extant structures in France to landmarks in Spain where the survivors fled. Using his book, you can literally follow in the footsteps of those who wore the yellow cross.

It appears that this review stands as the sole contrarian among the ranks so far. Let me start off by saying that the subject matter is smack-dab in the middle of my narrative interest. Weis is a consummate historian, his ability to produce narrative on the micro-style is VERY impressive. His reading of ancient scripts and texts has taken us quantitatively closer to this troubled era than most other scholars. As an academic work, this is a tour de force.

Unfortunately the book can also be classified as local history because most of the events occur within the ancient Cathar heartland straddling the border between France and Spain. The detail is, again, impressive in the extreme, but the problem is that detail seems to overwhelm the narrative for most of the text: there is endless discussion about what the perfects ate on many of their long journeys, much quoting of the everyday life experiences of the locals and much infering as to what must have happened given the facts that Weis generates from his reading of the medieval documents. Weis is off course right in all of this. But many times the subject matter is banal -- the honourable perfects must have slept in this loft in this particular house, or must have been offered such and such to eat, really begins to wear after 200 pages.

I therefore found myself wanting to break into chapters where the narrative builds as the inquisition closes in. Where traitors are dealth with preemptorily and where danger builds over chapters. I kept getting more detail about eating, sleeping, reading and toilet habits. When traitors are killed, as when one person is pushed off the top of a mountain, the events are dealt with in one or two paragraphs and then we back to the wonderings of the brother perfects. I gave it up after 200 pages. That is strange, because I almost never give up books on narrative history.

Therefore be warned -- if you are looking for the grand sweep of history, Weis will leave you hungry.

Also the Cathar revolt is a little overblown. As you find out later, the last inquisition never really faced any real military force as in the early encounters. The real battle was for the minds of informers and Cathars to act as confederates within the group and then bring them before the inquisition. The actual number of people involved, though some were influential, was actually small.

I would give this book 5 stars for historical scholarship and 1 star for keeping my interest. Overall it dissapointed me quite a lot.

In The Yellow Cross, Rene Weis presents a detailed, daily, even hourly, account of the lives of the Albigensian majority of the village of Montaillou, in the French Pyrenees, as they try, with partial success, to ward off the Inquisition during several confrontations (1300-1325). They do it though subterfuge, cunning, courage, exile, and on occasion, truly Jesuitical testimony. Their behavior confirms the claims of both their opponents and their modern apologists. Many of the Cathar perfects, and some of the other Cathars, were faithful to the asceticism they professed. On the other hand, the dominant family in Montaillou, which Weis describes as being like Mafiosi, took advantage of their power and corrupt connections to escape scrutiny while abusing the faithful Christians in the village, falsely denouncing their enemies to the Inquisition, and even murdering them. Some of the Cathar men and women, including Montaillou's nominally orthodox parish priest, took advantage of Cathar doctrine to procure lives of sexual profligacy that did not stop at rape.

I once imagined a town for a never-written novel that was founded by a Protestant sect organized upon Jesus' declaration "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." (Mt. 18:20). The sect held that this meant that a congregation for worship could number no more than three. The sect split further, with a splinter group holding that the passage referred to individuals while the majority thought it meant heads of households.

I was reminded of this comic fantasy by a lesson given by one of the Cathar perfects on the Scriptural basis of Catharism. It amounted to a similarly narrow, selective interpretation of John's Gospel in service to a classically dualist mythology of a rebel angel creating matter, including human bodies, then sneaking into heaven to steal souls. Weis does not dwell much on Cathar doctrine; he introduces this exposition only because it was recounted by one of the Cathars and recorded by an Inquisition scribe. Likewise, the Cathars' fundamentally anti-life precepts are revealed in the casuistry of a seducer: When his target protests that sex should be confined to marriage, he responds that all sex is bad, but it is worse between spouses, because there it produces new life; anyway, it doesn't matter what we do now, because if we receive the Cathar consolatum before we die, all will be forgiven. As several episodes show, after the consolatum the patient entered the endura, in which he was deprived of food and water to ensure death.

On the other side, one is impressed by the restraint and rationality of the inquisitors in the story, who in their investigations did not use torture, adhered to prescribed rules of procedure and evidence, and were more concerned with correction than punishment. Some of the accused successfully pleaded not guilty. Repentant first offenders received relatively mild punishments, such as wearing a yellow cross (enforcement was lax and impossible in remote mountain villages like Montaillou). Only the most flagrant and recidivist heretics were condemned to the stake. Like the Carthaginians, the Cathars give the lie to the progressive bromide about violence and oppression never settling anything.

This is a book that will give your preconceptions a thorough shaking out. Weis sets his story of the last Cathars within a picture of life in a mediaeval region. These peasants and bourgeoisie are not the manure spattered brutes of cartoon history. In an age when walking was the only means of transportation, they moved, visited, and traveled widely between villages, towns, and cities. They built, produced, bought, and sold. They moved as freely into Spain as they did to Toulouse. It is as though the people of Wilmington, Philadelphia, and Trenton were all pedestrians. Without gainsaying a bit of the incredible affluence of America in 2001, we have to admit that these men and women of 700 years ago are vigorous and comfortably clothed and fed, though death is sudden and implacable in a way that is stunning to someone accustomed to the coddling of modern medicine. Nor are they the downtrodden common folk of democratic conceit. The women are outspoken and active, and as bold and devious as the men. Nobles and knights do not ride them down while laughing sardonically. In fact, the ruling class seems to have little contact with them, directly or indirectly. There is a small castle in Montaillou, but only one of the aristocracy plays any part in the story, and she puts on no airs and receives little deference.

Weis' writing is as wonderfully clear and engaging as that of Simon Schama, David Hackett Fischer, and Victor Davis Hanson. He deploys a deep familiarity with the record in a relaxed narrative style that uses novelistic techniques, such as tantalizing allusions to events that are fully explained only much later. He has immersed himself in his subjects' words and in their countryside. He sometimes illuminates a villager's behavior with a comment drawn from his own experiences on the ground, such as being caught in a sudden storm in the mountains, or demonstrates the uncertainty of the inquisitor's position by comparing the official Latin with the original transcription in Occitan. The result is a warm, human tale of almost cinematic vividness. Although I have no sympathy for Catharism, I came to share Weis' affection for his subjects and sympathized with their defeats.

There are many fine maps and an excellent, helpful index. The color photographs are not of equal quality.

An exceptional presentation based heavily on historical records. Weis refrains from undue speculation and lets the records speak. Nevertheless, his exquistive writing helps bring the story to life. Ironically, the Inquisitions own detailed records from 1290-1329 were preserved and enabled Weis to recreate many of the activities in the village of Montaillou, France.

Cathar religion is not the focus of this history, but elements of Cathar thought and practice are unavoidably present. The pluses and minuses of being a Cathar are presented, at least for the residents of Montaillou. Despite the asceticim of Cathar spiritual leaders, the sexual promiscuity of some Cathars is not glossed over.

Sadly, in this case, the reason for the Inquistions interest in Montaillou seems to have been, not primarily their religious difference but the reluctance of people in that area to pay the Church's taxes.

I read this book in 3 days, but I took a break after every 2 chapters or so because following all the detail challenged my focus. The amount of detail Weis was able to assemble is staggering. To his credit, he kept the story flowing. I've never read history at this fine a granularity. I never before was aware what life in medieval Europe might be like.

Weis seems superhuman. How he assimilated so many facts and presented it so clearly and vividly is far beyond my understanding. A work of this quality and power seem to me very rare [Another book on Montaillou, by Ladurie, may be even more detailed, enough to perhaps be of interest only to academicians, but apparently makes a heavily pro-Church interpretation]. Even if the Cathars are not your interest, I'd recommend this book for its extraordinary presentation of life in a medieval village. I've never before felt this connected to people of the Middle Ages: I'm very impressed by them.

I recently finished Stephen O'Shea's excellent "Perfect Heresy", which covers the entirety of the Cathar movement & persecution. "The Yellow Cross" gives a much more intimate portrait of specific personalities, and is a wonderful book for anyone interested in the Medieval Cathars.

"The Yellow Cross" is an extraordinary combination of scholarship and readability. Using the surviving records from the Inquisition, and personal knowledge of the geography France, Mr. Weis captures day by day events in the lives of the last Cathars--right down to the food they ate, the style of their clothing, the floor plan of their houses, and the contents of their bags when they traveled. He has done an amazing job of unraveling conflicting testimonies to nail down specific dates and sometimes even the hour events occured. Everything is carefully documented and footnoted, and Mr. Weis is scrupulous about letting us know when he is drawing from the record, and when he must use conjecture. The drama unfolds, just as it did so long ago, and Mr. Weis lets the Cathars and Inquisitors speak for themselves, foibles and all, without judging them for the reader.

As I finished the book, I had the keep telling myself that it is senseless to feel sad for the deaths of folks who lived so long ago; yet they were so alive to me in "The Yellow Cross" that I experienced their tragedy with them. That's the mark of truly excellent historical writing!

For American or English readers who are really into details of the lives of French Cathars, this is the book for you. Mr. Weis, who has spent many years traveling and studying in the Occitan areas of France, has produced an amazing record of the daily interplay of the individuals who tried to perpetuate their religious beliefs in the face of an overwhelming duopoly of power. The Catholic Church and the State of France, both for their own political reasons, found the Cathars to be a threat and both persecuted the Cathars in ways that would make Hitler blanch.
This is not the book for those who are starting their study of the "Perfect Church." This is a very detailed study of one group of Cathars who were chonicled by their persecuters, the forerunner of the Catholic Inquisition. It is best for readers to first read another book, also available from Amazon, entitled "The Perfect Heresy. The Revolutionary Life and Death of the Medieval Cathars" by Stephen O'Shea. "The Perfect Heresy" presents, in a very readable and sometimes humorous and irreverent way, an overview of the Cathar heresy and gives the reader a good basis for understanding the political perspectives of this not-well-understood era of history.

I do not think the general reader will last more than a few chapters of this masterful book so be warned-"The Yellow Cross" is very dense and therefore not a quick read either in terms of time nor in terms of content. Having used those disclaimers, any person looking for a "picture" of medieval existence will be richly rewarded with the massive amount of detail regarding individual life during this time. Weis' wrings huge amounts of mundane detail about ordinary life as it was lived in the 12th and 13th centuries in Occitania-that region of medieval France in its southeast corner-Cathar country.

Some people have objected to the avalanche of detail marshalled by Weis in this wonderful book; I, however, find this avalanche one of the book's major strengths. I have read a reasonable amount about the Middle Ages but this book presents a more complete picture of ordinary life during this huge period than I have as yet seen. Some of these illuminating details: the descriptions of villages and the organization of the domiciles in those villages; how people interacted with each other-both sexually and domestically; how people maintained death-defying activities as heretics, as well as many others throughout this dense book.

I cannot praise "The Yellow Cross" highly enough but my less than perfect rating is simply a recognition of the difficulty some unwary readers might have if they attempt this book without being aware of the complexity with which they will be challenged.

As an end note I would suggest to any reader with a modicum of interest in the Cathars to visit their last redoubt at Montsegur and walk through the village at its base. That little walk prepared me for the description of the village of Montaillou around which "The Yellow Cross" takes place. The Middle Ages cannot but envelope you and with the fortress watching your movements you will experience a bit of time travel-enjoy!

This is a remarkably detailed account of the last of the Cathars in and around Montaillou circa 1320. Where this person was, when; who slept with whom, what they ate in this town and that. He gives a good account of the basisc beliefs of the Cathars. What is missing though is as much about what they thought or felt. And some of that is available, from the same copious records Weis uses. Ladurie's book Montaillou for instance includes snippets of conversation, where one of these characters sarcastically rebukes another. That sort of insight is mostly missing here.

I think Weis got lost in the detail, or the main thread did anyway.

An honorable, good book, but not an exciting one.

Rene Weiss' Yellow Cross is an in-depth, dramatic exploration of the medieval community which defied the Catholic Church and the Inquisition, the Cathars, whose religion contradicted Rome. Thirty years of the Cathars' conflicts with Rome are detailed in a history which is readable and involving. The probe includes many insights on social norms and politics of the times, as well as religious sentiments.