In medieval universities, preaching formed an essential part of the curriculum of theology. Though we know next to nothing about how the subject was formally taught and studied, we are well informed about its requirement and exercise. As early as the end of the twelfth century Peter the Chanter stated that the graduate in theology had to show proficiency in three areas: in lecturing, disputation, and preaching . How and when in a student's career such preaching was to be done (...) is set out in the statutes of major universities, such as Paris, Oxford, Cambridge, and others. In 1253, for instance, the statutes of Oxford University declared that “no one shall incept in theology in this university unless he has first been regent in the arts …, and unless he has lectured on some book from the biblical canon or a book of the Sentences or Histories, and preached in public before the university.” The three-fold requirement was still in place in the fourteenth century and later: “Those who are about to incept in theology, before they are admitted to inception, must throughout all theology schools oppose in public, preach in public, and read in public some book from the biblical canon or the Sentences.” The times and places of such required public preaching, as well as the order in which theologians would give their public sermons, were all regulated in similar statutes and have been discussed in Hastings Rashdall's history of medieval universities and, with particular focus on Oxford, by A. G. Little and F. Pelster. (shrink)

A most excruciating handicap for the understanding and appraisal of medieval poetry, especially lyric poetry, is our limited knowledge of its context. In many cases we know nothing at all about the author, about his or her character and the situation in and for which a poem was written, about the intended audience, or about the way in which a text, say the Corpus Christi plays, was presented. Now and then the manuscript environment may furnish a hint, or another text (...) may provide a clue , but by and large the available information is minimal, to the point that an ingenious critic has been forced to reconstruct the context of “poems without context” from the texts themselves. (shrink)

As the following remarks are to reflect my own scholarly commitment and experience, I should begin by saying that they come from a medievalist who in his work is always conscious of dealing with the works of a past state of civilization. They also come from a historian of literature, who in contrast to political or economic historians makes written documents the subject of his study, and who in contrast to linguists looks at them as works of verbal art. And (...) finally, they come from a professor of English literature who works closely with colleagues whose ultimate aim is the aesthetic analysis and appraisal of verbal objects, and of whom many today feel driven to ask deeper theoretical questions about, not only the nature of aesthetic values, but the nature of language itself and its function to communicate “meaning,” about the relation between object and perceiver, about the psychological or political function of literature and of language, and so on. Working in such an environment naturally brings with it a certain amount of confrontation, which in turn has its occasional political side in discussions about such practical matters as departmental curricula and new appointments. Though I would not rank myself among philologists who have little use for literary criticism and theory, I can of course not help being conscious of pressures and of attitudes on the other side — however unvoiced they may remain — that would reject “philology.” Hence, my remarks will reflect a practitioner's concern with what philology is and with what continuing value for the study of medieval literature it has. (shrink)