The Day the Universe Changed - James Burke [54]
Centralised monarchies used the press to enhance their control over the people and to keep them informed of new ordinances and tax collections. Since the increasingly large numbers of directives in circulation each originated from one clearly identifiable printing house, it was easy for Church and state to impose controls on what could and could not be read.
The corollary was, of course, that dissidence now also had a louder voice, whether expressed as nationalist fervour - itself fostered by the establishment of the local language in print - or as religion. The persecution and religious wars that ravaged Europe in the sixteenth century were given fresh and continuing impetus by the press, as each side used propaganda to whip up the frenzy of its supporters.
In the political arena printing provided new weapons for state control. As men became more literate, they could be expected to read and sign articles of loyalty. The simple oath was no longer sufficient, and in any case a man could deny it. He could not deny the signature at the foot of a clearly printed text. This represented the first appearance of the modern contract, and with it came the centralisation of the power of the state.
Through the press the monarch had direct access to the people. He no longer had to worry about the barons and their network of local allegiance. Proclamations and manifestoes were issued to be read from every pulpit. Printed texts of plays were sponsored to praise and give validity to the king’s policies. Woodcut cartoons glorifying his grander achievements were disseminated. Maximilian of Austria had one made entitled ‘The Triumphal Arch’ which simply reproduced his name in a monumental setting.
Political songs emerged, as did political catch-phrases and slogans. The aim was to identify the kingdom with the ruler, thereby strengthening his position. A war became known as ‘the King’s War’. Taxes were collected for the king’s needs. Prayers for his health were printed and distributed. In England they were inserted into the book of Common Prayer. For the first time, the name of the country could be seen on broadsheets at every street corner. The king’s actual face would eventually appear, on French paper money.
With the press came a new, vicarious form of living and thinking. For the first time it was easy to learn of events and people in distant countries. Europe became more aware of its regional differences than ever before. As Latin gave way to the vernacular languages encouraged by the local presses, these differences became more obvious. Printing also set international fashions not only in clothes, but in manners, art, architecture, music, and every other aspect of living. A book of dress patterns in the ‘Spanish’ style was available throughout the Hapsburg Empire.
The printing press brought Italy before the world, elected that country arbiter of taste for a century or more, and helped the Renaissance to survive in Europe longer and with more effect than it might otherwise have done.
With the spread of printing came loss of memory. As learning became increasingly text-oriented, the memory-theatre technique fell into disuse. Prose appeared more frequently, as the mnemonic value of poetry became less important.
Printing eliminated many of the teaching functions of church architecture, where sculpture and stained glass had acted as reminders of biblical stories. In the sixth century Pope Gregory had stated that statues were the books of the illiterate. Now that worshippers were literate the statues served no further purpose. Printing thus reinforced the iconoclastic tendencies among reformers. If holy words were available in print, what need was there for ornamental versions? The plain, unadorned churches of the Protestants reflected the new literary view.
The Dürer engraving ordered by the Emperor Maximilian. The triumphal arch celebrated the imperial name