A NEW YORK TIMES EDITORS’ CHOICE In a series of poignant vignettes, a preeminent historian makes a compelling case for Machiavelli as an unjustly maligned figure with valuable political insights that resonate as strongly today as they did in his time. Whenever a tempestuous period in history begins, Machiavelli is summoned, because he is known as one for philosophizing in dark times. In fact, since his death in 1527, we have never ceased to read him to pull ourselves out of torpors. But what do we really know about this man apart from the term invented by his detractors to refer to that political evil, Machiavellianism? It was Machiavelli's luck to be disappointed by every statesman he encountered throughout his life—that was why he had to write The Prince. If the book endeavors to dissociate political action from common morality, the question still remains today, not why, but for whom Machiavelli wrote. For princes, or for those who want to resist them? Is the art of governing to take power or to keep it? And what is “the people?” Can they govern themselves? Beyond cynical advice for the powerful, Machiavelli meditates profoundly on the idea of popular sovereignty, because the people know best who oppresses them. With verve and a delightful erudition, Patrick Boucheron sheds light on the life and works of this unclassifiable visionary, illustrating how we can continue to use him as a guide in times of crisis.
Urbino, giugno 1502: il trentatreenne Niccolò Machiavelli è stato inviato dalla Cancelleria fiorentina presso il giovane Cesare Borgia, celebre ormai per la forza, l’insolenza, l’audacia con cui si avvia a diventare il signore dell’Italia centrale, e che potrebbero fare di lui il “principe dei tempi nuovi”. Ma una terza persona si aggira nei meandri di Palazzo Ducale: Leonardo da Vinci, cinquantadue anni e una fama sconfinata, alla ricerca di un nuovo mecenate. Forse non sapremo mai di che cosa parlarono i due “geni” fiorentini, ma sappiamo che non era la prima volta che si incontravano, e che non sarebbe stata l’ultima. È da qui che parte la sfida raccolta da Patrick Boucheron: come raccontare, da storico, una vicenda attestata solo da frammenti sparsi e sconnessi? Come dare coerenza al racconto senza nascondere le contraddizioni e i vuoti lasciati dal passato? Quali sono i confini tra una ricostruzione fondata sulle prove e l’interpretazione che può darne lo storico? Una manciata di documenti, esili tracce, echi disseminati qua e là, che pure si possono far dialogare, porre a confronto, illuminando le zone d’ombra, dando voce ad una muta conversazione, mettendo insieme l’intima connivenza tra due mondi, tra due sogni, tra due ambizioni. Di quei tempi instabili e inquieti, scorrono così sotto i nostri occhi immagini di guerre e congiure, gli intrighi della politica e i giochi della diplomazia, sotto la lente acuta e febbrile della scrittura di Machiavelli, in quella fase di gestazione che lo porterà alla stesura del Principe. Ma ripercorriamo quella stagione irripetibile anche attraverso il “genio” di Leonardo: dalle invenzioni scientifiche alle innovazioni artistiche, dagli studi sul volo a quelli sulle acque, dai progetti di deviazione del corso dell’Arno al mistero che ancora avvolge la composizione de La battaglia di Anghiari, il cui contratto di committenza reca la firma di Niccolò Machiavelli.
Where can the danger be lurking? Two soldiers are huddled together, one gazing up at the sky, the other darting a sideward glance. They derive a tacit reassurance from their weapons, but they are both in their different ways alone and scared. They were painted by Ambrogio Lorenzetti in the Palazzo Pubblico in Siena, and they seem symptomatic of a state of emergency: the year was 1338, and the spectre of the signoria, of rule by one man, was abroad in the city, undermining the very idea of the common good. In this book, distinguished historian Patrick Boucheron uncovers the rich social and political dimensions of the iconic ‘Fresco of Good Government’. He guides the reader through Lorenzetti’s divided city, where peaceful prosperity and leisure sit alongside the ever-present threats of violence, war and despotism. Lorenzetti’s painting reminds us crucially that good government is not founded on the wisdom of principled or virtuous rulers. Rather, good government lies in the visible and tangible effects it has on the lives of its citizens. By subjecting it to scrutiny, we may, at least for a while, be able to hold at bay the dark seductions of tyranny. From fourteenth-century Siena to the present, The Power of Images shows the latent dangers to democracy when our perceptions of the common good are distorted and undermined. It will appeal to students and scholars in art history, politics and the humanities, as well as to anyone interested in the nature of power.
From one of the foremost medievalists of our time, a groundbreaking work on history and memory that goes well beyond the life of this influential saint. Elected bishop of Milan by popular acclaim in 374, Ambrose went on to become one of the four original Doctors of the Church. There is much more to this book, however, than the captivating story of the bishop who baptized Saint Augustine in the fourth century. Trace and Aura investigates how a crucial figure from the past can return in different guises over and over again, in a city that he inspired and shaped through his beliefs and political convictions. His recurring lives actually span more than ten centuries, from the fourth to the sixteenth. In the process of following Ambrose’s various reincarnations, Patrick Boucheron draws compelling connections between religion, government, tyranny, the Italian commune, Milan’s yearning for autonomy, and many other aspects of this fascinating relationship between a city and its spiritual mentor who strangely seems to resist being manipulated by the needs and ambitions of those in power.
We need history because we need rest: a pause to rest our consciousness, so that the possibility of a consciousness may remain – as the seat not only of thought, but of practical reason, affording full latitude for action. Saving the past, saving time from the frenzy of the present: the poets devote themselves to this with exactitude. For this purpose we must work to weaken ourselves, to make ourselves idle, to make inoperative this endangering of temporality that wrecks experience and despises childhood. “Surprise the catastrophe”, said Victor Hugo. Or, as Walter Benjamin put it, throw oneself against the slow oncoming disaster that is more a continuation than a sudden rupture.
Where can the danger be lurking? Two soldiers are huddled together, one gazing up at the sky, the other darting a sideward glance. They derive a tacit reassurance from their weapons, but they are both in their different ways alone and scared. They were painted by Ambrogio Lorenzetti in the Palazzo Pubblico in Siena, and they seem symptomatic of a state of emergency: the year was 1338, and the spectre of the signoria, of rule by one man, was abroad in the city, undermining the very idea of the common good. In this book, distinguished historian Patrick Boucheron uncovers the rich social and political dimensions of the iconic ‘Fresco of Good Government’. He guides the reader through Lorenzetti’s divided city, where peaceful prosperity and leisure sit alongside the ever-present threats of violence, war and despotism. Lorenzetti’s painting reminds us crucially that good government is not founded on the wisdom of principled or virtuous rulers. Rather, good government lies in the visible and tangible effects it has on the lives of its citizens. By subjecting it to scrutiny, we may, at least for a while, be able to hold at bay the dark seductions of tyranny. From fourteenth-century Siena to the present, The Power of Images shows the latent dangers to democracy when our perceptions of the common good are distorted and undermined. It will appeal to students and scholars in art history, politics and the humanities, as well as to anyone interested in the nature of power.
A NEW YORK TIMES EDITORS’ CHOICE In a series of poignant vignettes, a preeminent historian makes a compelling case for Machiavelli as an unjustly maligned figure with valuable political insights that resonate as strongly today as they did in his time. Whenever a tempestuous period in history begins, Machiavelli is summoned, because he is known as one for philosophizing in dark times. In fact, since his death in 1527, we have never ceased to read him to pull ourselves out of torpors. But what do we really know about this man apart from the term invented by his detractors to refer to that political evil, Machiavellianism? It was Machiavelli's luck to be disappointed by every statesman he encountered throughout his life—that was why he had to write The Prince. If the book endeavors to dissociate political action from common morality, the question still remains today, not why, but for whom Machiavelli wrote. For princes, or for those who want to resist them? Is the art of governing to take power or to keep it? And what is “the people?” Can they govern themselves? Beyond cynical advice for the powerful, Machiavelli meditates profoundly on the idea of popular sovereignty, because the people know best who oppresses them. With verve and a delightful erudition, Patrick Boucheron sheds light on the life and works of this unclassifiable visionary, illustrating how we can continue to use him as a guide in times of crisis.
From one of the foremost medievalists of our time, a groundbreaking work on history and memory that goes well beyond the life of this influential saint. Elected bishop of Milan by popular acclaim in 374, Ambrose went on to become one of the four original Doctors of the Church. There is much more to this book, however, than the captivating story of the bishop who baptized Saint Augustine in the fourth century. Trace and Aura investigates how a crucial figure from the past can return in different guises over and over again, in a city that he inspired and shaped through his beliefs and political convictions. His recurring lives actually span more than ten centuries, from the fourth to the sixteenth. In the process of following Ambrose’s various reincarnations, Patrick Boucheron draws compelling connections between religion, government, tyranny, the Italian commune, Milan’s yearning for autonomy, and many other aspects of this fascinating relationship between a city and its spiritual mentor who strangely seems to resist being manipulated by the needs and ambitions of those in power.
Back in print at last! From the author of Auntie Mame: the bawdy, bestselling, bountifully illustrated autobiography of an imaginary diva whose life is one hilarious mishap after another. For Belle Poitrine, née Mayble Schlumpfert, all the world's a stage and she's the most important player on it. At once coy and coercive, with a name that means "beautiful bosom" in French, she claws her way from Striver's Row to the silver screen. Recalling Belle's career, which ranged from portraying Anne Boleyn in Oh, Henry to roles in both Sodom and its sequel Gomorrah (not to mention the classic Papaya Paradise), Little Me serves up copious quanitites of husbands, couture, and Pink Lady cocktails, with international adventures and a murder trial to boot. A runaway bestseller that made its way to Broadway, starring Sid Caesar in 1962 and Martin Short in 1998, Little Me is now reprinted--with all of the 150 historic, hysterical photographs depicting the funniest scenes from Belle's sordid life, including cameo appearances by the author and Rosalind Russell. Considered a collector's item, the first edition of Little Me was like a performance in book form. Now this glittering spoof of celebrity is gloriously reincarnated for connoisseurs of all things chick and cheeky.
This volume traces the logic of urban political conflict in late medieval Europe's most heavily urbanized regions, Italy and the Southern Low Countries. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries are often associated with the increasing consolidation of states, but at the same time they also saw high levels of political conflict and revolt in cities that themselves were a lasting heritage of this period. In often radically different ways, conflict constituted a crucial part of political life in the six cities studied for this book: Bologna, Florence, and Verona, as well as Liège, Lille, and Tournai. The Logic of Political Conflict in Medieval Cities argues that such conflicts, rather than subverting ordinary political life, were essential features of the political systems that developed in cities. Conflicts were embedded in a polycentric political order characterized by multiple political units and bases of organization, ranging from guilds to external agencies. In this multi-faceted and shifting context, late medieval city dwellers developed particular strategies of legitimating conflict, diverse modes of behaviour, and various forms of association through which conflict could be addressed. At the same time, different configurations of these political units gave rise to specific systems of conflict which varied from city to city. Across all these cities, conflict lay at the basis of a distinct form of political organization-and represents the nodal point around which this political and social history of cities is written.
Elias Doever, accused of being a warlock by the residents of the Village of Bedfordshire, Massachusetts in 1692, is executed via the “ducking chair” into a well of holy water. A force erupts from his chest, killing him and escaping the well. Three hundred years later, the force from the well, Beladon, contacts Dorian Leeves, a young man with supernatural abilities, and informs him that he possesses the same powers as Elias Doever. Dorian will accomplish his ascension into powers beyond his belief if he can re-unite the “three bloods” of Elias Doever, himself, and Beladon. However, the body was buried in secret unconsecrated ground. Dorian’s new love interest, Toby Blessing, creates complications for his quest to find the skeletal remains of Elias Doever for his ascension. Dorian must decide whether to abandon his ascension and power or embrace a life with Toby in the present day.
Born in 1860 in a small Czech town, Alphonse Mucha (1860-1939) was an artist on the forefront of Art Nouveau, the modernist movement that swept Paris in the 1910s, marking a return to the simplicity of natural forms, and changing the world of art and design forever. In fact, Art Nouveau was known to insiders as the “Mucha style” for the legions of imitators who adapted the master’s celebrated tableaux. Today, his distinctive depictions of lithe young women in classical dress have become a pop cultural touchstone, inspiring album covers, comic books, and everything in between. Patrick Bade and Victoria Charles offer readers an inspiring survey of Mucha’s career, illustrated with over one hundred lustrous images, from early Parisian advertisements and posters for Sandra Bernhardt, to the famous historical murals painted just before his death, at the age of 78, in 1939.
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