Alchemy and the Liberal Arts

I’ve finally finished reading Lawrence Principe’s The Secrets of Alchemy. Previous posts on this book are found here and here. Reading this book made me think about the liberal arts, interdisciplinary education, and how the specialization of knowledge (especially in the natural sciences) has led to its fragmentation.

I think there is something we can learn from the alchemists. Principe writes: “Early modern chymistry embraces many topics that are usually regarded today as separate disciplines – chemistry, medicine, theology, philosophy, literature and the arts.” Therefore to study the history of alchemy requires a multi-pronged approach because of the “strikingly multivalent character of the subject”. (As a chemist, I like how Principe uses the word multivalent!)

In the final chapter of his book, Principe discusses Maier’s Atalanta fugiens (Atalanta fleeing) based on the classical tale of Atalanta and Hippomenes. I haven’t read the manuscript myself but apparently, as Principe describes it, each of the fifty chapters of the book “consists of five parts: a motto, an emblematic image, a six-line epigram (in both Latin and German), two pages of prose narrative, and most innovatively, a piece of music arranged for three voices.” The emblematic images and epigrams in these types of texts were like puzzles, and apparently were popular in the 16-17^th centuries in a way that crosswords and Sudoku puzzles are popular today. To enjoy such texts, the reader needed to have a keen knowledge of “classical literature and history, mythology, mathematics, poetry, astronomy, music, theology, and of course chymistry”. In fact, the more the reader was versed in this, dare I say it, liberal arts education, the “greater his understanding [and] the greater his delight.”

I learned that the phrase donum dei (“gift of God”), applied to alchemy among other things, is actually a technical phrase, and that there was a precept that “knowledge is the gift of God, therefor it cannot be sold”. Apparently, this precept emerged from arguments about whether teachers can require payment from their students. Wow! If we followed this precept today, I would be out of a job. In fact, I haven’t worried for a long time about whether I could “support myself” because in today’s society, there is always a market for education. And those with the means are willing to pay more to get their children ahead. Kings and nobles in times past would do this for their children via the patronage system.

The section that I found most interesting in Principe’s book is his discussion of The Mirror of the Whole of Nature and the Image of Art. (Here’s a link to the Chemical Heritage Foundation site, which Principe cites in his book. The image below is taken from the CHF website.) The ape represents human work as the imitation (aping) of nature’s work. It covers four concentric circles, the first of which is “art correcting nature in the mineral realm”. That’s where the alchemists are located and there are various symbols representing their activities. The ape is chained to a female figure representing nature spanning both the terrestrial and the celestial world. The first circle of the terrestrial world, before Minerals, Vegetables and Animals, is the Liberal Arts! The celestial world has the standard seven circles for the seven orbiting bodies known at the time. Nature is chained to what looks like a cloud beyond the physical universe that has emblems pointing to the divine realm. Everything is connected, “a cosmos in the true sense of the word”.

It’s really fascinating to learn about these older manuscripts and artworks that often aimed at representing wholeness, in contrast to the disciplinary fragmentation we see today. Perhaps that is why I am a supporter of (w)holistic education in the liberal arts – although one that is designed for the 21^st century student. Who knows? I’m certainly hoping that one day I’ll be able to teach a class that combines chemistry, art, literature, history and theology. The problem is that I’m only knowledgeable about one of these things. But perhaps that’s not truly a deficiency if our notion of education changes and we are able to break our disciplinary silos. In any case, thanks to people like Principe who are breaking those boundaries, I can at least indulge in pondering a great many mysteries.