The Cheese and the Worms

Many people are familiar with grand historical narratives that examine large trends: think the fall of Rome or the development of the industrial revolution. Another approach to historical research is called micro history, which seeks to understand big issues by focusing on small, discrete events. One of the pioneering works in this field is “The Cheese and the Worms” by Italian historian Carlo Ginzburg.

This short book tells the story of Domenico Scandella, also known as Menocchio, a miller from the small north Italian village of Montereale who was tried, convicted, and burned at the stake for heresy in the late 16th century.

Ginzburg uses the extensive interrogation record from Menocchio’s two trials fifteen years apart to examine questions about class relations, the way information spreads, and the mindset of people raised in an aural culture transitioning to a literate one.

Who Was Menocchio?

Attempts to understand exactly what Menocchio believed are hindered by the nature of the evidence. For one thing, his views may have changed over time. Secondly, witnesses among his fellow villagers may not have understood his unorthodox beliefs. He certainly seems to have tailored his speeches to his audience. His interrogations by the inquisitors swung between meek acceptance of orthodoxy and proud insistence on his unique understanding of God. He certainly denied the divinity of Christ and Mary’s immaculate conception, denounced the authority of the pope, and rejected the need for baptism.

Ginsburg Compares his beliefs to the various Protestant sects of his time such as the Lutherans and Anabaptists and displays how he did not belong to any of them. He still believed in the importance of mass, the Eucharist, and salvation through good works. When questioned by the inquisitor, it was clear that he had no conception of the concept of justification through faith alone, or predestination, two core Reformation concepts. His most distinctive belief, referenced by the title of the book, was that the heavenly angels and God himself emerged from formless chaos by spontaneous generation, “just as worms are produced from a cheese,” by a natural, not divine process.

Where Did Menocchio Get His Ideas?

If he did not get his ideas from Organized Protestant groups, where did Menocchio get them? At a time when books were still expensive and rare, Ginzburg traces 11 books that he probably read based on references he made during his interrogations, including the possibility that he may have read part or all of the Koran. Most of them he borrowed over the years from fellow villagers, which Ginzburg describes as a surprising number of readers for such a small village of the time.

How Menocchio Retained His Knowledge

More important to Ginzburg than exactly what books Menocchio read, is how he read and remembered them. This section of the book was particularly interesting. By comparing the plain text of the books to Menocchio’s recollection of them, expanding hugely on certain words or phrases, or dropping the original concept in favor of wholly original constructions, Ginzburg develops the idea that Menocchio’s mindset was, as he calls it “the encounter between the printed page and oral culture that formed an explosive mixture in Menocchio’s head.” In other words, though literate, Menocchio had a fundamentally different relation to the written word than we do today.

Tolerating Menocchio’s Beliefs

One surprising thing about the life of Menocchio is how tolerant his fellow villagers were regarding his strange beliefs, especially considering Millers were often viewed with suspicion by their fellow villagers, resentful of the fees they had to pay to grind their grain. He had been expounding his ideas to anyone who would listen for many years before he came to the attention of the inquisition at the behest of a local priest who he had come into conflict with. He had served as mayor of his small town on two separate occasions, and even was a guarantor of accounts for his local parish. Clearly, he was considered eccentric by his fellow villagers, but not dangerous or insane.

After his first trial, he was confined to prison and required to wear a penitential garment decorated with a cross for the rest of his life. After two years he begged for mercy from the court, condemned his former beliefs and promised to return to the Church, and was released. Even after his disgrace, he was later chosen again to oversee the accounts of the local church and was appointed to a commission to settle a dispute between a tenant and the local lord.

It was 15 years later while playing guitar at a festival in the nearby city of Udine that he spoke of his ideas to the wrong person and was denounced by a fellow musician. This resulted in a new set of charges, and a fatal conviction. This time he was also subjected to torture, and asked repeatedly who his accomplices were. He never admitted any, always insisting his ideas came from his own head.

Final Thoughts

For such a short book, Ginzburg is able to touch upon many fascinating subjects relating to religious life, social class and the mindscape of a people in the turbulent era of reformation and spread of literacy. It’s well worth a read, if just because Menocchio is such an interesting character.