to ponder some our assumptions and ways of life, and as a result, the world we create in the wake of the corona pandemic might be better, more equitable, and less materialistic. The first lesson we can take from the past is that we will have this opportunity.
So the Europeans of the past, ancestors to many of us, can teach us that pandemic disease offers an unprecedented opportunity to ponder our lives, society, and attitudes, a chance to abandon aspects of ourselves that are harmful, self-centered, and shallow. But it can also remind us that humanity is not merely at the whim of forces beyond its control, but that like David, we are endowed with powers and potential to face whatever is out there, no matter how goliath in its proportions it may be.
PHOTO CREDIT: WIKIMEDIA COMMONS BY JÖRG BITTNER UNNA
There is a paradox to the plague, and from it we might learn a second lesson. Historians have long puzzled over the fact that the Black Death and the Renaissance both began c. 1350, and have wondered about the connection between these two events. As the city of Florence was descending into chaos (and would be visited by outbreaks of plague in 1374, 1383, 1400, 1411, 1417, 1430, 1448, 1456, 1478, throughout the 1490s), it was also becoming the capital of the burgeoning Renaissance. The paradox inherent in this pairing of plague and Renaissance is that just as the disease was demonstrating to Europeans the absolute fragility and powerlessness of humanity, the Renaissance (a word that comes from the French for “rebirth”) was arguing for humanity’s capacities. At its core was a celebration
of the potential and ability of humankind. If we take Michelangelo’s statue of David as emblematic of the Renaissance, it offers not only an example of the beauty and perfection of the human form, but a demonstration of the latent potential within each of us. With his sling over his shoulder, David is captured in marble at the precise moment that he spots Goliath. The expression in his eyes suggests that the young hero is considering his strategy and about to embark on bold action. A more overt depiction of human efficacy and ability to act is difficult to imagine.
Closeup of Michelangelo’s David (1501-1504), now in the Galleria dell’Accademia in Florence, Italy 4
Agora/Fall 2020
NOTES: 1. Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron, G.H. McWilliam, trans. (London: Penguin Books, [1972] 2003), 7-8.
