Rating: 
Summary: An Arm and A leg To See These Saints...
Review: I also read this little book and looked at some of the reviews posted here to see what other people thought about it. I think this book tries to tell the truth about a pretty sickening custom and I don't know but maybe some people just don't want to deal with the truth. Like the person from New York, I think the author was trying to show that a custom many people think is very tidy and acceptable was, when all was said and done, based in pretty weird ideas about God that anyone with any sense at all would know is way beyond the call of duty. Sure, there were lots of political, financial, and other "complex" factors involved, but I think the author makes it pretty clear that no matter how complex these factors could have been, none of them sprung from a healthy perspective on God.I don't care if you're an Oxford scholar or somebody's granny--if you read what this author reveals about the most basic history custom of relics and your stomach isn't turned, you need to get a clue. It seems to me that someone, like author or reviewer, should not be criticized for being outraged at this disturbing practices, and people just shouldn't justify such things just because they're done behind the veil of religion. The author seems to say in her book, "Who cares about how the Church tried to paint the relic trade up all nice and pretty, it was a big deception from start to finish." I guess this book provokes a reaction, which is usually what happens when somebody tells the truth in their writings. if just one third of the crap she documents was true, everybody in the world has a right ot be disgusted with the relic thing and it seems to me the people who try to defend the custom as having some kind of redeeming value or true mystical significance are just plain in denial. I liked Miss Rufus's stories here. She showed a side of the whole issue that the catholic Church doesn't tell you at Sunday mass, I'll bet. Who would want to read abook that makes relic trade seem respectable? People have a right to be disgusted with it all after reading this.Some things in history deserve to get slammed by rational people and this is one of them. Bully for this author. I giveit five stars too.
Rating: 
Summary: The worst piece of literature I have ever read
Review: I am so disappointed in this book. I am always on the lookout for books about the Saints. So when I read this I was not expecting to pick up a book that borders on pornography. The constant demeaning attitude the author expresses about the virtuous lives of the Saints is positively sickening. The Saints are honored in the Church so that we can understand that holiness is for everyone. Just because someone chooses not to give in to base instincts and to fight against vice does not make them psychotic, masochist or weird. What makes it even worse is that Catholics who don't know much about the Faith will read this book and think it's right up there with "normal" thinking about the Church and the Saints. This book deserves -10 stars.
Rating:
Summary: The worst piece of literature I have ever read
Review: I am so disappointed in this book. I am always on the lookout for books about the Saints. So when I read this I was not expecting to pick up a book that borders on pornography. The constant demeaning attitude the author expresses about the virtuous lives of the Saints is positively sickening. The Saints are honored in the Church so that we can understand that holiness is for everyone. Just because someone chooses not to give in to base instincts and to fight against vice does not make them psychotic, masochist or weird. What makes it even worse is that Catholics who don't know much about the Faith will read this book and think it's right up there with "normal" thinking about the Church and the Saints. This book deserves -10 stars.
Rating:
Summary: Creepy, but not for the reasons you might think
Review: I began reading this book with real relish-- like the author claims to be, I've always been fascinated with the cult of the saints, though it lies outside my own religious tradition (Jewish). More than once I've stepped inside a gloomy church in Europe or Canada and been surprised to find the remains of a saint, displayed in a golden reliquary or laid on silken pillows, gently lighted. What do these richly dressed bones mean to the people who reverently placed them there, and those who still come to pray before them, and place their trust in them? I've even been led to ask--why do I often feel peace beside these dessicated remains, instead of revulsion, or pity, or fear?
Regrettably, I found answers to none of my questions here. These questions, or similar ones, seem never to have occurred to Rufus. Instead, she casts a cold, unquestioning eye on every shrine she enters and writes about what she sees with a predictable and trite condescension. Because there are only so many ways to lament the "superstition" of displaying human remains for veneration, Rufus dips into the lives of the saints to fill out her little book. Here, also, she is remarkably culturally tone-deaf. Yes, the lives of the saints have been re-constructed into hagiography by the Catholic church to teach lessons of purity, or forbearance, or obedience--but the faithful who come to these shrines and who feel an intimate connection with these saints cannot do so because they are examplars of virtue (what teenager goes on holiday to a church to celebrate chastity?) There is something else at work here, something very powerful and mysterious and, I think, worth knowing about. But you won't find out about it in this book. I could say that Rufus never met a saint she liked, but I don't know if she has ever met a person she liked. She didn't encounter a single person during her travels who she feels is worthy of being portrayed with empathy or understanding. In the end this book reminded me of certain 19th century accounts by Englishmen making their grand tour through Italy; like Rufus they intended to tell us what they found but because they were careful to carry their prejudices with them, and to unpack them first and to drape them over everything they saw, they ended up revealing very little about the places they visited, and far too much about themselves.
Rating: 
Summary: A response to the reader from Denton, Texas.
Review: I believe the reader from Denton, Texas was looking for a different kind of book, and when he or she didn't find it, became sorely disappointed. Magnificent Corpses is a personal travel narrative. It is not an academic, scholarly treatise, not was it ever intended to be. But that does not imply that I have played fast and loose with the facts. If there are any factual errors, I apologize, but it's impossible to defend myself from the general charge that the book has "many" errors. As to the three specifics mentioned here: the reader from Texas claims that I wrote that the relics of the Three Magi were transferred from Milan to Cologne in 1168. Read page 20 again -- you'll see that I in fact never wrote that. I never mentioned the exact date -- you apparently inferred it from the text, which is understandable, but which should not be the basis for an attack on the entire book. And yes, perhaps the precisely accurate technical term for the architectural feature from which the virgins peer is "gallery." But nor is "ramp" wildly inaccurate: the narrow horizontal area supporting the virgins did appear from my vantage point to be slightly slanted, and I thought that the term "ramp" would convey a more evocative visual image to the reader than the more exact but less-known architectural term "gallery." And your quarrel with the phrase "later Gothic additions" is obtuse at best. If someone like the reader from Texas, a professional medievalist who "specializes in the late medieval cult of relics" and who "spent several weeks this summer . . . examining this church in detail" can scan this book for errors and only uncover these picayune points of disagreement, then it might be argued that Magnificent Corpses is remarkably accurate and reliable, considering that it was written by a journalist rather than a leading expert in the topic of medieval relics. The bibliography given at the back of the book is not an exhaustive list of sources. As it says at the top of the page, it is a "Selected Bibliography," and was intended to bring to general readers' attention some of the more entertaining books on the subject. This "Selected Bibliography" by no means represents a complete list of sources. In fact, much of the historical information was gleaned from discussions with church staff and brochures supplied by the churches themselves. Perhaps the churches made errors, but I often chose to trust these individuals rather than secondhand sources. The reader from Texas also complains that I do not attempt to explain the "motivations of the cult of relics." On one hand this is true: I cannot completely grasp the mindset of a medieval relic-venerating serf. Sorry. I don't presume to, nor can I imagine that anyone else can so presume. We do not know how people felt 50 years ago, much less 800 years ago. I would be out of line guessing at other people's motivations. As a journalist, I prefer to let images and the legends of the saints speak for themselves. Nor, as the reader from Texas contends, am I claiming to have produced an "expert account." Just the opposite: I am a traveler, not an expert, and I never claim or pretend to be. From the outset, any prospective reader can see that he or she is in for a fascinating journey into a world that is new and unusual to the average 20th-century American. In the book we take this journey together, step by spirited step, as intrigued outsiders drawn forward by the amazing people whose stories these relics evoke. Those seeking a scholarly tome about church architecture, the history of Catholicism and medieval sociology can find them in any library. Magnificent Corpses is one writer's account of a trip through Europe in the path of miracles, legends and of course corpses -- no more and no less. As in any book, there may indeed be errors. Even my American Heritage dictionary contains typos. About any errors in my work I feel quite miserable. And I respect the expert's drive to point them out. But I hope that the average reader would not get bent out of shape over the precise definition of a ramp, or which exact year in the 1160s some relics were moved. Readers who liked "Video Night in Kathmandu" were able to forgive Pico Iyer for not having a doctorate in Nepalese studies. Not that I presume to equate myself with him, but hopefully you will understand my point. If you are a professor of medieval studies, or on staff at the Vatican, then perhaps other books will be more to your liking. If you are a reader craving a journey unlike any you have most likely ever taken before, then Magnificent Corpses might suit your appetite.
Rating:
Summary: Don't bother - poorly researched and written.
Review: I bought this book with great expectations, hoping to find in it a good popular account of relics in Europe. Alas, what a disappointment. First of all, the writing style is choppy, fragmented, and consistently fails to develop a coherent narrative. Worst of all is the shoddy research that was employed in "preparing" this book. By the time I hit page 25, I had already found so many basic historical (and methodological) errors, that I lost all confidence in the author's authority. Let's start with a couple of dates - on page 20, the author gives the date of the transfer of the relics of the three magi from Milan to Cologne as 1168. It is well documented (and widely published, for those who bother to do the research) that this event took place in 1164. Now, some terminology problems: p.16 - "Two sculpted virgins peer down from a ramp...". The author is referring to the gallery in the nave of the church of St. Ursula. There is no ramp at all. (I spent several weeks this summer researching the cult of St. Ursula and examining this church in detail. I assure you, there is no "ramp"). p. 16 - "the church was modeled on Paris's Sainte Chapelle and later saw Gothic additions." Where do I start? First of all, only the choir of the church was modeled on the Sainte Chapelle (I must admit that I was pleased to see the author note this). But, what does she mean by "later Gothic additions"? The choir IS the Gothic addition. The author's regular misuse of historical, architectural, artistic and theological terminologies gave this reader the impression that she hardly knew what she was describing. I could fill a book twice the length of "Magnificent Corpses" with the corrections and explanations that would be necessary to render it useful. Granted, I am a medievalist who specializes in the late medieval cult of relics and their display. While many of my gripes with the book therefore may appear overly picky, I feel that we as authors have a responsibility to our readers to offer them well-researched, well-thought out material. While Ms. Rufus' intentions may not be didactic, nonetheless some of her readers will grant her an authoritative status - a status entirely undeserving in regard to this topic if we consider the lack of evidence of serious research. Furthermore, I found the tone of the book, it's flip, off-the-cuff manner to be too self-centered. It's not that I fail to see (and revel in) the humor of this material - ask any of my students. I do feel that it is necessary to approach this material with sensitivity and care to try to undertant it on its own terms. (This does not appear to have been the author's intention.) Were I to write a book about the Muslim Haj (pilgrimage to Mecca), it would be equally important for me to explore the topic on its own terms, with a sympathetic resonance. Otherwise, I could hardly claim to have understood it. This, then is my principal complaint with this book - it simply does not endeavor to understand the forms and motivations of the cult of relics. Nor does it try to explain these. Perhaps my scholarly involvement in this field and my committment to teaching has colored my experience of this book. In all fairness then, I would assess this book as a series of scattered personal thoughts (and occasional observations) on what the author saw as a bunch of curiosities. That is all fine and dandy, but don't look to this book for any real information on the cult of relics. (There are other books that do this more effectively). Like I said, I was excited to see the book. As one who has invested much energy in the study of the cult of relics, I am always curious to see how this material is more widely disseminated. Alas, if this book is any indication, then we have much work ahead of us. It pains me to feel compelled to write such a less-than-glowing review of someone else's work. I believe very strongly in the spirit of collegiality. However, I also feel that we have a professional responsibility to our readers to do the job properly. An author carries a certain authority. S/He must live up to that. It would not be intellectually ethical for me to write a book on astronomy, if my only background on the subject was that I occasionally looked up at the stars. "Magnificent Corpses" seems to do just that - glance about at some relics in Europe and POOF here is an "expert account". Sorry. Not quite. Now, as for the writing style. I am aware that the appreciation of prose style is a matter of personal taste. I had trouble disgesting Ms. Rufus' writing style. I found it jumpy, unconnected and downright frustrating. Perhaps i was asking too much in expecting clearly developed thoughts rather than random juxtapositions. By the way, even the bibliography is inadequate. Although some of the books cited are nice books, there is a dearth of scholarly material. This scant bibliographic background is a clear revelation as to the author's preparedness in cranking this work out. I don't mean to sound cranky and pedantic. I love this material as much as Ms. Rufus claims to. (In fact I am involved in scholarly research on a number of the cults about which Ms. Rufus wrote. Much of my excitement about the book was the thrill of reading someone else's thoughts on a subject on which I have spent so much time. In this I was disappointed.) I simply hold the belief that we should take care to be well-informed about the material before we disseminate our thoughts on it.
Rating:
Summary: Offbeat pilgrimage to saintly remains
Review: I read "Magnificent Corpses" while vacationing in France and Italy, and it is just the type of fascinating and quirky travel book that can take a tourist off the beaten path, and enrich his or her journey. Because of Anneli Rufus, I was able to pay my respects to the head (and finger) of Saint Catherine, on display in the Church of San Domenico in Siena. I didn't get a chance to visit the rest of her body (in the Roman church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva), but there was a mummified pope (one of the Innocents, I believe) in a glass case in the Vatican. Rufus doesn't mention him in her book, probably because he wasn't a saint, so now I'm going to have to find out why he (of all the popes) wanted to be buried in plain sight. An offbeat book like "Magnificent Corpses" often leads to detective work on subjects (deceased popes) that I never thought would interest me. Rufus goes into interesting detail on both the living saint (if there is any historical evidence that the saint actually existed), and on the preservation and display of the saint's remains. She scolds some of the saints and praises others, e.g. Catherine of Siena. Some may be offended by the author's clever, ironic observations especially since Rufus is not herself a Catholic. However, for me (also a non-Catholic) she turned a mummified finger and a head into the living woman who was credited with healing the schism between Rome and the Popes in Avignon. One of my travelling companions borrowed "Magnificent Corpses" and was last seen reading it on our bus trip to Rome. She seemed as fascinated as I was, so I think I'm going to have to buy myself another copy of Rufus's interesting work.
Rating:
Summary: Offbeat pilgrimage to saintly remains
Review: I read "Magnificent Corpses" while vacationing in France and Italy, and it is just the type of fascinating and quirky travel book that can take a tourist off the beaten path, and enrich his or her journey. Because of Anneli Rufus, I was able to pay my respects to the head (and finger) of Saint Catherine, on display in the Church of San Domenico in Siena. I didn't get a chance to visit the rest of her body (in the Roman church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva), but there was a mummified pope (one of the Innocents, I believe) in a glass case in the Vatican. Rufus doesn't mention him in her book, probably because he wasn't a saint, so now I'm going to have to find out why he (of all the popes) wanted to be buried in plain sight. An offbeat book like "Magnificent Corpses" often leads to detective work on subjects (deceased popes) that I never thought would interest me. Rufus goes into interesting detail on both the living saint (if there is any historical evidence that the saint actually existed), and on the preservation and display of the saint's remains. She scolds some of the saints and praises others, e.g. Catherine of Siena. Some may be offended by the author's clever, ironic observations especially since Rufus is not herself a Catholic. However, for me (also a non-Catholic) she turned a mummified finger and a head into the living woman who was credited with healing the schism between Rome and the Popes in Avignon. One of my travelling companions borrowed "Magnificent Corpses" and was last seen reading it on our bus trip to Rome. She seemed as fascinated as I was, so I think I'm going to have to buy myself another copy of Rufus's interesting work.
Rating: 
Summary: Patchy work, with good and bad
Review: Magnificent Corpses : Searching Through Europe for St. Peter's Head, St. Claire's Heart, St. Stephen's Hand, and Other Saintly Relics is not a bad book. However, it isn't entirely great, either. As a travel book, extraneous details were elaborated upon. In the midst of describing the life of a saint, Anneli S. Rufus may suddenly wax philosophical about a scantily-dressed teenager in satin hotpants. Althought the dichotomy of prim and proper saint and hot-blooded teenaged vixens does have some merit, I think the author overdoes it. She seems to use these modern interruptions as a kind of comic relief. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it seems to crush the story-telling flat. Some of the writing is very strong, very visceral. I can easily understand how fundamentalist Catholics get upset with this book. Anneli S. Rufus doesn't look at the saints as being holy, but as being people with unique problems and perspectives. As a result, her portrayals are rather sacrilegious. She suggests many ascetics may have been masochists, suffered from eating disorders, or were sexually frustrated. Her theories may be blasphemous, but they make a lot of sense. The masochism and anorexia so prevalent among so many saints is described wonderfully. These are the descriptions which tie in neatly with modern-day interruptions. The book reads more like a collection of diary excerpts than a book. You can pick this book up and read it in any order. Since there is no flow from chapter to chapter, you won't be missing any sense of progression. The ending of the book was jarring. It seemed like it should continue, but had been arbitrarily cut off. I'd like to see this book reworked and expanded upon. Still, it was a nice introduction to the lives of saints I had never heard of before.
Rating:
Summary: Patchy work, with good and bad
Review: Magnificent Corpses : Searching Through Europe for St. Peter's Head, St. Claire's Heart, St. Stephen's Hand, and Other Saintly Relics is not a bad book. However, it isn't entirely great, either. As a travel book, extraneous details were elaborated upon. In the midst of describing the life of a saint, Anneli S. Rufus may suddenly wax philosophical about a scantily-dressed teenager in satin hotpants. Althought the dichotomy of prim and proper saint and hot-blooded teenaged vixens does have some merit, I think the author overdoes it. She seems to use these modern interruptions as a kind of comic relief. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it seems to crush the story-telling flat. Some of the writing is very strong, very visceral. I can easily understand how fundamentalist Catholics get upset with this book. Anneli S. Rufus doesn't look at the saints as being holy, but as being people with unique problems and perspectives. As a result, her portrayals are rather sacrilegious. She suggests many ascetics may have been masochists, suffered from eating disorders, or were sexually frustrated. Her theories may be blasphemous, but they make a lot of sense. The masochism and anorexia so prevalent among so many saints is described wonderfully. These are the descriptions which tie in neatly with modern-day interruptions. The book reads more like a collection of diary excerpts than a book. You can pick this book up and read it in any order. Since there is no flow from chapter to chapter, you won't be missing any sense of progression. The ending of the book was jarring. It seemed like it should continue, but had been arbitrarily cut off. I'd like to see this book reworked and expanded upon. Still, it was a nice introduction to the lives of saints I had never heard of before.
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