The Dream Geni: 13th century
gets modernized in Deannuntis' Master Siger's Dream
If you like your 13th
philosophy and philosophers stoned, drunk, and mish-mashed with
anachronistic technology ala steam-punk, oh yes, and emeshed in papal
and religious conspiracies then A.W. Deannutis' Master Siger's
Dream is up your cobblestone alley.
Deannutis turns historical fiction
upside down by introducing us to his brilliant, bumbling, and
libidinous Master Siger of Brabant, whom I had no idea was actually a
person, much less a revolutionary of philosophy who pissed off the
Catholic church. Siger was guilty of teaching “double truth,”
saying that one idea could be found true via reason and the opposite
through faith; whatever that means. It is argued and accepted that
Siger was as important as Thomas Aquinas to Western faith. Now I'm no
philosopher, but the tale Deannutis dreams up makes the heady
intellectualism go down like candy. One of my favorite moments has
Siger meeting Pope Nicholas at the golf course to discuss mankind's
thirst and search for enlightenment while they smoke pot. Sometimes
the anachronistic imagery is an excuse for Deannutis to pluck and
plow ideas around via the character's dialogue, and that's part of
the truth the author wants us to see; ideas matter, pushing
boundaries matter. The raw basics of much of what Siger and his
contemporaries argue over can be seen bubbling up in the Occupy
movement: you can't kill an idea, you can't control everyone.
Siger bounces, drinks, and fornicates
his way around Europe, investigating the death of Brother Thomas
(Aquinas), all while moving and shaking with the elite minds of the
13th century; the Pope a shadowy menance, or ally, his
eyes and ears everywhere.
Deannutis clearly has fun taking shots
at man's desire, man's folly, the church, intellectualism, and his
own prose. He announces and declares his chapters, and with grand
gesture too; as grand as the ideas themselves were in the 13th
century. It's hard not to see the author winking at us throughout the
narrative as the 13th century is meshed with the
cacophony and pornography of the 21st century.
And there is a dream, beyond the
imagery and imagination of the anacrhonistic landscape, one where
nuns are S&M Goddesses, and torture poor Siger with the truths of
his future, the future of the church, and even his own influence.
And like the dream, the novel is a tease, flirting both with
entertainment and burden of great ideas, and that's part of the
point; how can one really know anything?
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