Book Reviews to be that, along with those whom he criticises, Glucklich ultimately takes a one-dimensional approach to magic. It may well be that there is an essential experiential dimension to magic, but that claim does not justify the conclusion that that is all there is to it. The review of earlier approaches to magic reveals, if nothing else, that there are many dimensions associated with it, and different theorists have seized upon different ones as the key. Perhaps, then, the phenomenon is so irreducibly complex that an exclusive focus on any one aspect of it is bound to lead to distortion and misunderstanding. While it may be necessary to bring the experiential dimension clearly into the picture, it does not appear to be sufficient to explain and encapsulate the whole phenomenon. Since the central argument of the book fails to be convincing, the book as a whole is limited in its appeal and value. The case studies have some interest in their own right, irrespective of their contribution to the argument. There are some genuine and enjoyable insights into everyday life in Varanasi, whatever their relevance to the phenomenon of magic is thought to be. Perhaps it is at a polemical level that the book is most successful. What Glucklich clearly wants is for magic to be taken seriously and not simply dismissed as an aspect of primitivism or as the unique interest of the social anthropologist. His enthusiasm for his topic is clear, and some may find it infectious. If the book provokes a new or expanded interest in the subject, it will have achieved at least one of its aims. TREVOR CURNOW St. Martin’s College, Lancaster doi:10.1006/reli.1999.0226, available online at http://www.idealibrary.com on
Bernard McGinn, Visions of the End: Apocalyptic Traditions in the Middle Ages. 2000 Academic Press
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New York, Columbia University Press, 1998, xxvii+390 pp., r17.50, £14.00 (paperback) ISBN 0 231 11257 2. The millennium provides a useful excuse for a new edition of Bernard McGinn’s anthology of readings in apocalyptic thought. No excuse whatever is required for its publication in a paperback edition after nearly twenty years. This second edition contains an additional 10-page preface, and 13 pages of bibliographical supplement, but otherwise it is a straight republication of the original. While apocalyptic studies have advanced in the decades between the two publications, the purpose of the book remains the same. As McGinn explains, ‘The book was designed to fill a gap in scholarship by providing a critical study and anthology of texts of medieval apocalyptic traditions between c. 400 and 1500 A.D., eleven centuries that constitute over half of the entire history of Christian apocalypticism’ (p. xiv). It fulfils its design admirably and now presents in an even more accessible form around 100 original texts, either whole or excerpted, arranged in 35 sections, each with its own introduction. The overall impression conveyed by the texts is one of great variety, and this variety prompts speculation on the criteria used for selection. The pragmatic reasons for the historical criteria are made clear in the original preface. Apocalypticism in Judaism and early Christianity had been relatively intensively studied by the time the first edition of this book appeared in 1979. The modern world did not abandon apocalypticism, but while its onset did not mark a total break with what had gone before, there was nevertheless a noticeable change in outlook. Hence the sense that it was the medieval period which constituted not only ‘a gap’ but also one with its own identity. The criteria for the selection of texts from within the designated period are more problematic. Put simply, what
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counts as apocalyptic literature? It is this question which occupies much of the introduction. McGinn argues that there are reasons for distinguishing apocalypticism from prophecy, eschatology, messianism and millenarianism, although it also stands in a significant relation to each of them. Moreover, the distinctions are not so clear that it is easy to tell which is which. The book is a kind of eschatology, in that ‘it is a particular kind of belief about the last things – the end of history and what lies beyond it’ (p 3). It is a kind of prophecy, insofar as prophecy may address itself to these last things. At the same time, both messianism and millenarianism might be seen in turn as kinds of apocalypticism, neither of them to be confused with it, but both giving expression to part of it. Perhaps what binds all of these genres together, and what stands at the heart of apocalypticism, is a concern with history. Indeed, it is interesting to note that the largest single section of the book is dedicated to Joachim of Fiore, whose influence on subsequent historical thought, as well as on more narrowly apocalyptic thought, has been enormous. In apocalypticism, different conceptions of history come together in one complex phenomenon, although apocalyptic thinkers might regard them as inseparable. First, there is secular history. The number of references in the materials to Roman and subsequently Holy Roman emperors is substantial. Second, there is sacred or cosmic history. In apocalyptic thought God is a constant presence, either in the foreground or in the background. Finally, there is moral history. A central concern with apocalypticism is that in the end the just will prevail and the unjust be defeated. Schemes of history which incorporate all three of these dimensions are a staple of apocalypticism. The intersection and combination of the three mean that history is perceived as having not only a sequence but also a purpose.
Once the pattern of history is understood, then it becomes possible to locate oneself within it, and this seems to be a development which separates apocalypticism from eschatology in general. However, apocalyptic writing typically takes a further step, namely, the location of oneself (or, perhaps better, one’s time) at a special point within history. On a number of occasions McGinn stresses the sense of the imminence of the end of history within apocalypticism. It may be the fact that history has so far stubbornly refused to end that has helped to provide so much fuel for the fire of the apocalyptic imagination. Some have responded by making apocalypticism more of an attitudinal matter, enjoining the faithful to live as if the end were imminent. Others have made fresh calculations and discovered new infallible signs of the end’s imminence, an activity which shows as few signs of ending as history does itself. McGinn discusses the form of apocalyptic literature as well as its content. Indeed, he believes that such a distinction is vital in making sense of it. On its form, he observes, ‘Whether we wish to call it allegorical, symbolic, figurative, or confused, it will be obvious that apocalyptic presentation is usually highly dramatic in form. . . . The scenario of the events of the End has as its most basic structure a threefold pattern of crisis, judgment, and salvation essential to apocalypticism’ (p. 6). It seems entirely reasonable to suppose that a sense of the imminence of the end of history is likely to lead to the introduction of an element of drama when writing about it. What is less obvious is why, apart from diffidence or respect for earlier models, an element of obscurantism is also involved. An abundance of it, however, can be found in the literature assembled here. While debates may continue over the true nature of apocalypticism, and over whether the texts McGinn selects all constitute genuine examples of it, there can be
Book Reviews little dispute as to the value of this book in making those texts available to a wide audience. The first edition of the book gave important impetus to the study of medieval apocalypticism, and it is to be
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hoped that the second will generate a further one. TREVOR CURNOW St. Martin’s College, Lancaster