Paracelsian medicine and natural philosophy was formed during the Radical Reformation and incorporated metaphysical propositions that were incompatible with the Lutheran confession as codified in the Confessio Augustana and elaborated in the ultra-orthodox Formula of Concord. Although Paracelsian ideas and practices were endorsed by important philosophers and physicians in late-sixteenth century Denmark without raising serious alarm, the imposition of strict Lutheran orthodoxy in the Danish Church and a concomitant resurgence of Aristotelian philosophy drew attention to the religious heterodoxies inherent in (...) Paracelsianism. Unacceptable theological and religious propositions, which reached Denmark in Rosicrucian texts and were implicit in certain medical and philosophical treatises, were in many cases inseparable from core Paracelsian concepts, with the result that Danish academic philosophers, physicians, and theologians rejected Paracelsian ideas except where they could be accommodated to acceptable Galenic and Aristotelian interpretations. When this was done, such ideas are arguably no longer Paracelsian in any meaningful way. (shrink)

This book addresses two related generalizations that persist in the history of seventeenth‐century chemistry, both of which are crucial to the canonical narrative of the scientific revolution. The first is that the experimental program of Robert Boyle led him to abandon the Aristotelian and Paracelsian chemical theories of his predecessors and adopt a reductionist, materialist matter theory from the French mechanical philosophers Pierre Gassendi and René Descartes, forever changing the nature of chemical theory and paving the way for the modernization (...) of chemistry during the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The second is that the theories of Gassendi and Descartes were unequivocally “mechanical” and reflect the reemergence and supervention of classical atomism over alchemical and vitalist ontologies. Both of these generalizations have been successfully challenged in the past fifteen years. The present book collects and explicates these findings, while focusing on Robert Boyle and the legacy of his matter theory for late seventeenth‐century European chemistry. In the end, Antonio Clericuzio shows that Cartesian mechanical philosophy did not have a decisive impact on the matter theory of the chemists who held onto chemical principles and qualities even as they adopted various forms of Boyle's corpuscular hypothesis.In an able historiographical overview, Clericuzio shows how Boyle was thrust into the mainstream of revolutionary science by Thomas Kuhn, Marie Boas, and A. R. Hall, who depended on an eighteenth‐century construction of Boyle that suited the needs of the experimentalism and materialism of Enlightenment science but hardly reflected the thinking of Boyle and his contemporaries, as is evident in the texts cited here. In fact, Boyle did not rigorously apply mechanical philosophy to his chemistry and medicine, as he did to his physics, and he fashioned his corpuscularist matter theory from the active seminal principles of the Paracelsians and Helmontians as well as the atoms of Epicurean theory and the minima naturalia of medieval Aristotelian alchemy. William Newman and Lawrence Principe have recently argued the importance of the medieval alchemists' materialism for seventeenth‐century chemistry, and Newman has credited J. B. Van Helmont and Daniel Sennert with forging medieval corpuscular minima into the corpuscles adopted by Boyle, but here Clericuzio argues that corpuscles were hardly evident in sixteenth‐century alchemy, that Van Helmont's theory was not truly corpuscular, and that Sennert's corpuscles still possessed Aristotelian forms. This matter awaits resolution.One of the strengths of this book is Clericuzio's treatment of the pre‐Boylean developments within chemical theory, documenting that corpuscularism did not emerge from the classical atomism of the French mechanists but evolved from various considerations of alchemical and Paracelsian theory, combined with Aristotelian natural philosophy. In the first place, the idea of semina, which Boyle explained as corpuscles endowed with generative power and specific developmental programming, was clearly present in chemical philosophy from Paracelsus and Petrus Severinus to Van Helmont, whose influence on Boyle and his contemporaries is now well established. Moreover, a materialized version of semina already existed in the medical theory of Girolamo Fracastoro, who adapted the idea from Lucretius. As well, semina were being corpuscularized and materialized in the early part of the century, as reflected in treatises by Nicholas Hill.One cannot expect a book of such wide‐ranging scholarship to reflect all of the recent literature in the field, but the author's failure to engage Barbara Beigun Kaplan's study of Boyle is unfortunate, both because her work speaks directly to the perspectives on Boyle that are treated here and because points on which their accounts differ need clarification. In sum, Clericuzio's book presents a much‐needed rectification of the entrenched Enlightenment view of Boyle and the development of corpuscular chemistry but is not the last word on Boyle's relationship to his predecessors' ideas on matter. (shrink)

This paper presents qualitative research that focus on the Reading Groups. The aim is to understand the values of reading and discussing books in group, during the months of lockdown, caused by the Covid-19 health emergency. Using written and structured interviews, we collected the experiences of 73 adult participants in Reading Group in Milan and Bergamo provinces. The results show how, even by the unusual online mode, the Reading Group was a way to defend oneself from the pain of reality, (...) a space of relationship in isolation and a possibility of self-assertion, in situation of strong limitation of individual freedom. Starting from the analysis of what happened, this study wants to outline the potential of Reading Groups as pedagogical environments to produce change. (shrink)

Background: In the Netherlands, people with severe cognitive deficits due to Korsakoff syndrome are generally admitted to a specialized nursing home. Professional caregivers experience that these residents are often not aware of their deficits, and consequently, their willingness to accept care is relatively low. However, these residents need permanent support when performing daily tasks due to severe cognitive deficits. The combination of objective care needs and low subjective responsiveness makes caring for people with Korsakoff syndrome a complex undertaking. It is (...) unknown how professional caregivers deal with this complex task and how they manage the associated ethical challenges. Objectives: The aim of this study was to explore the professional caregivers’ perspectives on good care for residents with Korsakoff syndrome. Methods: A qualitative study design was used. Data were collected via semi-structured interviews. The Framework Method was used for the thematic analyses of the interview data. Participants and research context: Five specialized nursing homes participated in this study. Twelve professional caregivers, including nurses, nursing assistants, and support workers, were selected based on the ability to provide rich information on the study topics and to capture a variety of demographic and professional characteristics. Ethical considerations: The institutional review board of the VU University Medical Center Amsterdam approved the research protocol. The study was conducted in accordance with the ethical principles for medical research involving human subjects. Findings: Three perspectives on good care emerged: (1) making daily life a joint effort, (2) being steadfast, and (3) treating with respect. Discussion and conclusion: Professional caregivers try to achieve responsiveness in people with Korsakoff syndrome in three different ways. These perspectives reflect fundamentally different views on the care relationship and the autonomy of the resident. By elucidating the three perspectives, we hope to promote the practitioners’ reflection on their own ideas about good care for people with Korsakoff syndrome. (shrink)

Translational science is a 21st century mission. Government officials and industry leaders are making huge investments in an attempt to transform more basic science discoveries into therapeutic applications. Scientists and policymakers express great excitement about the medical advances that could come with the current bench-to-bedside campaign.A key step in translational science is the move from animal and other preclinical studies to initial human testing. Researchers ability to predict human effects is limited, and first-in-human tests present significant uncertainty. Participants in this (...) form of research face risks and can experience serious, even lethal, harm. Well-known incidents involving Jolee Mohr and Jesse Gelsinger, as well as subjects in the 2006 study of the investigational agent TGN1412, show the dangers that can arise in early human research.The bench-to-bedside campaign will need many volunteers to participate in early human testing. Investigators and regulators must not allow the policy enthusiasm for translational science to overshadow the commitment to protect human subjects. Participants in exploratory research are diverse and as a group lack characteristics usually associated with vulnerable populations, such as impaired decisional ability or economic or educational disadvantage. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: The Portrait of a Miniature Giant PAUL BAROLSKY There was a time when the art of the sixteenth -century Florentine painter Agnolo Bronzino was reviled for its aesthetic excesses. Writing in his classic “The Cicerone: An Art Guide to Painting in Italy,” the great nineteenth -century scholar Jacob Burckhardt wrote that “as an historical painter,” Bronzino must “be placed among the Mannerists,” a judgement equivalent to placing him (...) in an art historical hell. But, Burckhardt added, “as a portrait painter, he is inferior to none of his contemporaries, not even the Venetians.” Given the fact that among the Venetians, Titian is one of the great portrait painters, this is astonishingly high praise. Nowadays, it is not uncommon for art historians, appreciating Mannerism, to celebrate the elegance and preciosity of Bronzino’s exquisite portraits. Of all Bronzino’s portraits, that of the dwarf Morgante is one of the most beguiling. It is distinctive in so many ways. This picture is the subject of a remarkable book by the Israeli art historian Sefy Hendler, Gracious and Beautiful Monster : The Literary Universe of Bronzino’s Nano Morgante, which is an exceptional piece of scholarship. Different aspects of his book have influenced various scholars who have written about the picture and who have fruitfully exploited its various details. What needs to be appreciated, however, is the way in which this book brings out the extraordinary synthetic character of Bronzino’s strange painting and the diarion 28.3 winter 2021 Sefy Hendler, Gracious and Beautiful Monster: The Literary Universe of Bronzino’s Nano Morgante, Maschietto Editore, 2016. 158 the portrait of a miniature giant versity of ways in which it belongs to the courtly culture in which it was painted. The beauty of Hendler’s seemingly all-encompassing book is that it tells a fascinating and highly entertaining story with admirable brevity in just over seventy pages. Hendler, who packs a great deal of deeply absorbing information and insight into his slim and learned volume, is sensitive to the sentiment of Peter Whiffle’s well-known dictum: “You cannot begin not to tell until you know more than you are willing to impart.” Hendler’s exquisitely concise story concerns a favorite dwarf of Duke Cosimo de’ Medici, one Braccio di Bartolo in Poggio di Fornione, who flourished at the ducal court in the middle years of the sixteenth-century. Bronzino painted the dwarf for the Duke in 1552. His sometime rival, Giorgio Vasari, painter, architect, and biographer, described the picture as “beautiful and marvelous” in his Lives of the artists. The painting is double-sided, featuring a frontal view of the naked dwarf on the recto of the canvas (fig. 1) and a rear view of the dwarf, similarly exposed on the verso (fig. 2), where the dwarf’s backside dominates the composition. (We might well observe here that Bronzino specialized lasciviously in painting the culo (witness the coy Cupid in his famous Venus, Cupid, Folly, and Time). It is therefore not surprising that the anatomical backside rendered over and over again in Italian Renaissance art, with all its connotations, sexual and otherwise, has recently been the subject of a considerable body of scholarship. Hendler, himself writing on various writers of the period, offers little hints into the psycho-sexual dimension of Bronzino’s picture. Its depiction of so many birds leads inevitably to a consideration of the word “bird” in its sexual dimension. Enough said. If Morgante’s posterior is manifest on the verso, the recto of the painting has its own special interest. A butterfly flies by the dwarf directly and conveniently in front of his genitals—a coy if not teasing gesture of decorum. The portrait once hung in the Palazzo Vecchio, which had become a ducal residence. In recent years it has moved around quite a bit, settling in the Galleria Palatina of the Palazzo Pitti, once a ducal residence. Vasari’s description of the picture is not without a certain iro- Paul Barolsky 159 ny, since the beautiful form of the painting as painting stands in opposition to the less than beautiful dwarf. The writer Anton Francesco Grazzini captured this paradox in his poem on the occasion of the death... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:A Philosophical Path for Paracelsian Medicine: The Ideas, Intellectual Context, and Influence of Petrus Severinus (1540–1602)Dane T. DanielJole Shackelford. A Philosophical Path for Paracelsian Medicine: The Ideas, Intellectual Context, and Influence of Petrus Severinus (1540–1602). Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2004. Pp. 519. Cloth, $83.00.The Paracelsian and Danish royal physician Petrus Severinus complained, "If we can make more potent [drugs], extracted from metals and minerals,... I ask, what age (...) except this one will oppose our efforts?" (115). Indeed, early modern attempts to prepare and prescribe drugs forged in the alchemical laboratory often faced vehement opposition by the university-trained physicians who were weaned on the humoral theory and herbal materia medica of Galen. The orthodox Galenists disdained not only the "chemical poisons" of the Paracelsians, but also their theoretical speculations. After all, the Paracelsians dismissed the belief that disease was the result of humoral imbalances, and promoted both the analogy of microcosm (the human) and macrocosm (the natural world, including the stars), and the idea that diseases were essences or actual beings.Severinus was prescient in his prediction that chemical medicine would become popular, but—as Jole Shackelford notes in the introduction to his A Philosophical Path for Paracelsian Medicine—the concepts of Paracelsus and his followers continue to remain peripheral to the grand narratives of early modern intellectual history. This remains the case despite the illuminating studies of such scholars as the late-Enlightenment medical historian Kurt Polycarp Sprengel, Walter Pagel, and Allen Debus. Thus, Shackelford sheds much needed light on this significant strand of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century science and medicine. Via text-oriented study, particularly of Severinus's Idea medicinæ philosophicæ (Ideal of Philosophical Medicine), Shackelford provides a long-awaited and meticulous biographical account of Severinus and explains with refreshing clarity the sources and speculative theory behind his brand of chemical medicine. Like such recent scholars as Michael Walton and Charles Gunnoe, Shackelford presents Paracelsianism as an ideology, duly noting that the ideas of Severinus, reflecting the reception of Paracelsus in general, were frequently accepted or rejected on religious grounds.To begin, Shackelford establishes Severinus's importance, noting that the medical author and Wittenberg professor Daniel Sennert wrote in 1619 that most iatrochemists followed in the steps of Severinus, who had molded Paracelsus's ideas into a coherent philosophy. Shackelford then traces the story of how Severinus—after studying at such universities as Padua and Paris—joined his friend Pratensis (a recognized Paracelsian) and Tycho [End Page 488] Brahe in bringing an increasingly eclectic Denmark up to continental cultural and intellectual standards. Unfortunately, Severinus's appointment as physician to the king distracted him from completing most of his research projects, but he had already left for posterity his Idea medicinæ, published in 1571.As Shackelford writes, the Idea medicinæ promoted Severinus's belief that Paracelsian medicine was not only an alternative to humoral medicine, but also promised to cope better with "new" fevers. Also, Severinus invested Paracelsianism with authority by emphasizing its ancient forebears and by arguing that Paracelsus was the latest in the line of prisca theologia—one of the few to "ascend to the inner chambers of the Mosaic mysteries" (57). In his amalgamation of Neoplatonism, the Hippocratic tradition, and Paracelsus, Severinus's featured doctrine was efficient causation, or "semina theory." Unlike Robert Boyle's inertial, material corpuscles and their active principles, Severinus's semina were "intrinsically formal and immaterial, and were logically and ontologically prior to matter" (17). The characteristics of these "loci," which accounted for all change in the subvisible world, could be observed through chemical analysis, and they were uniquely attractive to Christians, who were drawn to Severinus's Paracelsian interpretation of Genesis and his idea that when the predestinations contained in the semina are completed, the world will reach its end.Shackelford engages the reader with such fascinating topics as why Tycho—who was not just an astronomer, but also a student of alchemy—departed Denmark, and how Paracelsians were involved in the effort to improve the Danish Bible by "cleansing" it of non-Lutheran elements. Very welcome too is Shackelford's discussion of the neglected topic of Paracelsian therapeutics, especially his evaluation of... (shrink)