Johan Huizinga (1872–1945)

We at least implicitly know that playing (“ludens” in Latin), in some sense of the word, is an important part of our lives — games, sports, laughter and joking, entertainment, . . . . Maybe we don’t give it its due, though. How intrinsic is it to human nature and human cultures?

That’s where Johan Huizinga steps in. Huizinga was a Dutch historian, writing in 1938. Not an auspicious time for play in Europe, on the eve of World War II.

His thesis is that play is integral to virtually show more all aspects of human culture, and that its vestiges can be found in contemporary cultural practices, including in the areas of law, war, knowledge, literature, and of course games and sports. In many of those areas, play has become, probably to our detriment, overshadowed and diminished by our “serious” selves.

The terms “play” and “serious” here require some elaboration to make sense of Huizinga’s claims. He doesn’t think that “play” and “serious” are mutually exclusive — “It is rather that civilization gradually brings about a certain division between two modes of mental life which we distinguish as play and seriousness respectively, but which originally formed a continuous mental medium wherein that civilization arose.”

“Play” itself he defines as “an activity which proceeds within certain limits of time and space, in a visible order, according to rules freely accepted, and outside the sphere of necessity or material utility. The play-mood is one of rapture and enthusiasm, and is sacred or festive in accordance with the occasion. A feeling of exaltation and tension accompanies the action, mirth and relaxation follow.”

That sort of play can be quite “serious” as in the athletic contest, the “agon,” of ancient Greece. Ritual combats, like jousting tournaments, or, if you want to stretch a little bit, our own violent sports. The point of those contests includes honor and glory, not just domination and gain.

Even war can be a “contest” of honor, in this way of thinking. In contemporary times, though, he says, “It remained for the theory of ‘total war’ to banish war’s cultural function and extinguish the last vestige of the play-element.”

Other kinds of contests fit into Huizinga’s picture as well. He cites “slanging” in particular as a way of carrying out disputes, even legal disputes — pretty much a match of skill in name calling and baseless accusation, but where all parties know that they are at play, that it’s all “not meant” in some sense. Trash talk that’s over when the dust settles.

Literature and philosophy also fall into play categories. The play of words in poetry, or the play of reasoning in the sophists, or in Plato’s dialogues, or Parmenides’ “proem.” The challenges of riddles, which Huizinga also cites as having so much a major place in ancient cultures. And, of course, games seem intrinsic to mathematics.

We can argue the application of the term “play,” and Huizinga’s interpretation does seem very broad, relative to my own intuitions of play as “for fun” and without consequence. But there is something here, in the playful attitude we can go about the day to day, and even the momentous.

Certainly, it is hard to justify applying the term “play” to the wars, the legal courts, and other parts of our own culture. Of course, that is part of Huizinga’s point, that we have banished the element of play. Whether it ever really was there, or whether the Greek agon, the medieval joust, or the “lower” culture practices of ancient life were actually just barbaric, sadistic, and unfair — that’s something to think about.

But there is something to his insight. “Play” isn’t valued. A “playful” attitude isn’t valued in business, sometimes even in sports.

Rather than Huizinga’s historical/anthropological approach, or maybe in addition to it, I’d like to see a treatment of “play” from psychological and development terms, and from more straight-ahead sociological ones. Why do we disvalue play? How do we beat it out of ourselves as we grow up? How did we beat it out of adult life in particular? Why do we, at best, shunt it off to exclusive “play” activities and not let it infuse “serious” activities?

One word of warning about the book. It's a bit . . . turgid. Hence the three stars rather than, probably, four. Ironic that a book about play just isn't all that playful! Be prepared. This is an academic work of the 1930s. show less

I’m glad I went back and picked up Huizinga’s, Erasmus and the Age of Reformation. This popular biography was originally written in 1924, so it’s very old. I read a reissued edition of 2002 which also includes some letters of Erasmus. Huizinga died in 1945.

Huizinga is more critical of Erasmus than Augustijn (the other biography I read, Erasmus: His Life, Works, and Influence), and he offers some cutting criticism. For one, he calls Erasmus “weak” and talks of his “weakness”. show more While Luther obviously confronted the powers-that-be of his time, and did that quite vigorously, Erasmus kept aloof. Huizinga thinks Erasmus’ weakness was “… the study of a recluse bending over his books,” which, “did more than anything else to prevent Erasmus from understanding the true nature and purport of the Reformation.” (p. 138). It may be that Erasmus did not even read Luther’s most important writings until well after they were published. According to Huizinga, Erasmus thought the conservative reaction to the Reformation was about resistance to learning. There was much more to it than that, and Erasmus never faced up to the singular issues of his day.

Having said that though, I have some reservations about getting rid of Erasmus so easily. Not everyone has the ability, as Luther certainly did, of calling forth inner powers and confronting all the evil of one’s own age. Erasmus did confront evil, but when he did so it was as if behind a veil of language and learning. In fact, this is another of Huizinga’s criticisms of Erasmus. (p. 43) But must Erasmus be judged solely by this standard? Erasmus towards the latter part of his life says, “The essentials of our religion are peace and equanimity. These can hardly exist unless we make definitions about as few points as possible and leave many questions to individual judgement.” (p. 116) Elsewhere he says, “Let us resist not by taunts and threats, not by force of arms and injustice, but by simple discretion, by benefits, by gentleness and tolerance.” (p.152) This almost turns Huizinga’s criticism on its head. In my view, “gentleness” is not always the same thing as “weakness”. Erasmus and Luther were likely after two different things.

In the end, Erasmus remained a Catholic while Luther did not. Erasmus writes to Luther during the freedom of the will controversy in 1526, “I have never been an apostate from the Catholic Church. I know that in this Church, which you call the Papist Church, there are many who displease me, but such I also see in your Church. One bears more easily the evils to which one is accustomed. Therefore I bear with this Church, until I shall see a better, and it cannot help bearing with me, until I shall myself be better. And he does not sail badly who steers a middle course between two several evils.” (p. 165)

There is more criticism of Erasmus here in Huizinga, as well as more insights. I was glad to read this book because it gave me a feeling for the reality of Erasmus, the man. Even the criticism of Erasmus’ weakness has its place, if taken as part of a more holistic view of him. show less

Erasmus loved books, he collected them, he wrote them, he printed them and he doodled in them. His interest and fascination with the early printing process enabled him to take control of the publication of his books to such an extent that for Latin readers (he wrote in Latin) he became influential in shaping intellectual opinions in Europe. Those opinions were in tune with the humanist movement and the Italian renaissance: Erasmus seemed to want to bring about a perfect fusion between show more antiquity and Christianity, he wanted to take the Christian church back to its roots. He believed that a wilful and at times ignorant misreading of the scriptures had resulted in a catholic church that relied on ceremony, fasting, indulgences, pilgrimages and a veneration of saints and their relics which was full of superstition and foolishness. He was attacked by conservative churchmen, but always managed to find favour with the Pope, however when Luther burst onto the scene heralding the Reformation, which challenged the church in the very areas that Erasmus had highlighted, Erasmus could not support the protestant movement and ended his life opposed to the new church. Huizinga's biography carefully explores the character and mind of one of the most eloquent writers of the renaissance, to present us with a study that explains and at times excuses Erasmus's actions.

The book is first and foremost a biography of Erasmus and only delves into the Reformation movement as it affected Erasmus himself and as he spent his latter years ducking and diving from the controversy it largely takes place in the background. The biography falls into four distinct parts. Firstly Huizinga examines Erasmus early life, his credentials as a humanist, his desire to be free of the monastery to which he was attached, his need to earn money to make himself independent so that he could devote more time to his studies and his writing. The Colloquies and In Praise of Folly were published at this time and Huizinga teases out their flavour and importance, giving a fine sketch of their content. Their follows three chapters on the character and mind of Erasmus and the man himself is brought vividly to life by some excellent and thoughtful writing. It is no surprise that this man who ranked peace and harmony above all other considerations and used these as guiding principles should be the man sitting on the fence when the storm of the Reformation broke around him.

Erasmus story is taken up again with his sojourn at Louvain where he again came under attack from the conservative's, this was at a time when Erasmus was hard at work correcting the misinterpretations he discovered in the New Testament, making his version which he believed was error free and which could be understood by all learned men ready for publication. He travelled to Basle to the printing works where he stayed to oversee the publication, he was in his element making corrections surrounded by printers and books. Now however the first waves of the reformation broke around him, he was badgered by both sides for his support and his letter to Luther is a typical example of Erasmus's position, begging him not to include him as one of his supporters, yet not condemning his stance. You can almost hear him saying "for goodness sake leave me alone to write my books" Huizinga also points to a more fundamental difference between the two men, saying that Erasmus did not understand the depth of Luther's faith he was unaware of the deeper mysteries that fuelled the movement. As he came towards the end of his life Erasmus finally lent his support to the catholic church, but by this time the world had moved on and he was yesterdays man. Huizinga concluded this section with a chapter on Erasmus's influence on the period of enlightenment in the 17th and 18th centuries.

The final section is a selection of letters written by Erasmus. These letters were written in the foreknowledge that they would be collected and published and in themselves are fine pieces of literature. There is a long panegyric on Erasmus's friend Sir Thomas Moore, there is his famous correspondence with Luther. There is a letter to the head of the monastery to which he was trying to extricate himself explaining just why he was not suited to monastic life. There is also a long letter explaining the vicissitudes of travelling in the early sixteenth century as Erasmus journeys from Basle to Louvain almost convinced that a sickness that develops is the plague. Everything that Erasmus writes seems wonderfully convincing, full of gentle humour and written by a man who cares for others as much as himself. The letters alone are more than enough to lead me to read [In praise of Folly] and [The Colloquies].

Huizinga's biography published in English in 1924 does not have the advantage of modern scholarship, but that hardly seems to matter as his portrait of Erasmus is so convincing and well written that I do not feel the need to read another. A Five Star Read. show less

Huizinga writes vividly and with a keen eye for an engaging anecdote, but overall I found The Waning of the Middle Ages (also translated into English as The Autumn or The Decline of the Middle Ages) to be more useful as a source for early twentieth-century understandings of the Middle Ages, and indeed for then contemporary culture, than for the medieval period itself. The particular topics on which Huizinga chooses to write are interesting, and indeed presage many of the studies which later show more cultural historians and historians of mentalité, would produce—feuds and hairstyles, colour symbolism and pageantry.

But the tone and measure of the judgement which Huizinga passes on fourteenth and fifteenth-century western Europe was a turn-off to me. One of the tricky balancing acts which historians must of course perform is to pass judgment without being judgemental; to recognise their own roles in constructing historical narratives without letting their own particular presence warp that narrative. It's not an act which Huizinga pulls off; he is too convinced of the inherent superiority of his own period of history. He condescends to the Middle Ages as a period of childishness, of "superficiality, inexactness, and credulity"; Huizinga repeatedly informs the reader that medieval people said or did or believed things which "we" would of course disdain. I can see why this is a minor classic in the field, but it's not one which I found inspirational. show less