I’ve been working through Neal Stephenson’s Baroque Cycle for the past several weeks. With three volumes in total and more than a thousand pages per volume, this is certainly a monumental undertaking. In addition, to even understand what’s going on in the books, I have to make repeated forays to Wikipedia to brush up on my knowledge of 17th and 18th century history. This means that it will be a while before I can post a complete review of the books.
In the meantime, here’s an excerpt from the second book in the cycle, The Confusion, which mocks the Roman Catholic belief in transubstantiation. I suppose that the episode must be fictional, but it makes for a fine example of the writing in the Baroque Cycle, with its attention to historical detail and intricate observations of the scientific, religious, economic, political and social dynamics of the time.
This scene occurs on the 18th birthday of the Princess Caroline of Brandenburg-Ansbach in 1701 where she is presented with a gift, a huge and finely detailed globe of the planet Earth wrought of brass bars with metal plates to represent the continents, by Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz at a private party in Charlottenburg Palace, Berlin. Also present at the party are the Electress Sophia of Hanover and her daughter Sophia Charlotte of Hanover, Queen of Prussia.
A minor character, the Jesuit priest Father von Mixnitz (as far as I can tell, a fictional character) wishes Princess Caroline to marry Archduke Charles in order to form an alliance to claim the throne of Spain, then held by King Philip V, duc d’Anjou, who is ultimately a pawn of King Louis XIV of France. To do that howeve, she would have to convert from Protestantism to Catholicism, hence the following exchange:
“It is hardly unheard-of for Persons of Quality to change their religion,” the Jesuit said. “Especially if they are intellectually active, and are presented with compelling arguments. As I am taking up residence here in Berlin, I shall look forward to exchanging views with your royal highness on such matters in coming years, as you grow in wisdom and maturity.”
“We needn’t wait,” Caroline said helpfully. “I can explain it to you now. Dr. Leibniz has taught me all about religion.”
“Oh, has he now?” Father von Mixnitz asked uneasily.
“Yes, he has. Now tell me, Father, are you one of those Catholics who still refuses to believe that the Earth goes round the Sun?”
Father von Mixnitz swallowed his tongue and then hacked it back up. “Highness, I believe in what Dr. Leibniz was saying just a minute ago, namely, that it is all relative.”
“That’s not exactly what I said,” Leibniz protested.
“Do you believe in the transubstantiation of the bread and the wine, Father?” Caroline asked.
“How could I be a Catholic if I did not, Highness?”
…
“What if you ate it and then you sick and threw it up? When it came out, would it be Jesus’s flesh and blood? Or would it de-transubstantiate on the way out and become bread and wine again?”
“Such solemn questions do not comport with the frothy imaginings of an eighteen-ear-old girl,” said Father von Mixnitz, who had gone all red in the face and was biting the words off one at a time, as if his tongue were a trip-hammer in a mill.
A small episode to be sure, but it makes for a witty barb all the same against one of the oddest beliefs in Roman Catholicism.