Resumo Este artigo estuda o projecto pessoano acerca da confederação ibérica. A Ibéria imperial é concebida como um imperialismo cosmopolita por – e para – poetas. O símbolo e a analogia conduzem a um drama. Pensa-se em um drama que avança através do “pensar trágico” e do “sentir poético” que desemboca no onírico. Um sonho em que se associa três dos famosos heterónimos pessoanos, Alberto Caeiro, Ricardo Reis e Álvaro de Campos, e as três nações ibéricas irmãs: Portugal, Espanha e (...) Catalunha. Palavras-chave : cosmopolitanismo, cultura, Ibéria, imperialismo, PessoaThis paper studies Pessoa’s project about the Iberian Confederation. Imperial Iberia is considered a cosmopolitan empire from – and for – poets. Symbol and Analogy lead to Drama. It is thought a Drama that begins with “tragic thinking” and “poetic feeling”; ending in an oniric sense. A dream that associates the three famous pessoa’s heteronims, Alberto Caeiro, Ricardo Reis and Álvaro de Campos, and the three Iberian nations: Portugal, Spain and Catalonia. Keywords : cosmopolitanism, culture, Iberia, imperialism, Pessoa. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Why Iberia?María Rosa Menocal (bio)My first instinct was to correct the title and rename this essay “Why Medieval Spain?” rather than “Why Iberia?” After all, I never say I work on or teach about “Iberia.” And yet the editors have got it just right to signal—using the geographic Iberia instead of the national Spain—that the terrible difficulty of finding worthy names is at the heart (...) of the matter here, at the heart of why it is that the study of the cultures and peoples of the Iberian peninsula during the medieval period is as exacting, as stimulating, as important as it is. It is easy enough, and accurate enough too, to point out that the study of all premodern cultures brings with it comparable difficulties, that, for example, before there was a France or an Italy, it is also misleading to talk about what might have been French or Italian, and yet medievalists in those areas, as well as the man on the street, regularly do so. But in the case of the Iberian peninsula the misprisions reflected in the confusion of terms—when we call a Christian kingdom “Spanish” but an Islamic one “Moorish,” to take only one of dozens of egregious examples—are confusions both more severe and more meaningful. It is true that Dante is not an Italian, but rather a Florentine, and the distinction is far from trivial—indeed, for Dante, central. And yet the comparable distinctions in the Iberian peninsula are likely to be more searing, because they involve not just political but religious and ethnic distinctions. If we call Rodrigo Diaz, the Cid, a Spaniard, why not his contemporary Judah Halevi? And why do we so often—even among those of us who “know better”—persist in calling the Muslims of the Iberian peninsula “Moors” or even “Arabs”—thus grossly confusing religion and ethnicity and suggesting, every time we do, that to be a Muslim was always not to be a Spaniard, in the way that being a Christian was, or that confession is equivalent to ethnicity?Of course, at this late date we all know the largest answer to these and other comparable questions: Spain defined itself as a modern nation through the expulsion not only of its Jewish and Muslim citizens but especially through the expulsion of the memory that they had ever been a part of the real body politic of “Spain.” It is not merely that after 1492 and 1609 (and everything in between) to be a Spaniard was aggressively defined as those who were not (and, better still, had never been) Christian; it is that this early modern definition of the national identity was transferred to the medieval past, and the medieval past rewritten and reimagined accordingly, as if the twelfth century were already longing for the sixteenth. This obliteration of the historical memory of the cultural and religious complexities of the medieval Iberian universe has long meant that the parameters that define how we talk about its languages and cultures are profoundly misshaped, which I mean not as a moral but as a historical statement: Alfonso X would no doubt have been startled by the suggestion that Arabic was not a vital part of the Castilian cultural universe or that Jews were not Toledanos or Sevillanos, nor citizens of his “Spain.” [End Page 7]It is of course the singular fact in European history—and now the word is out, almost everyone knows it—that the three Abrahamic religions long coexisted, in highly complex and always-shifting ways, in the Iberian peninsula. This has for some years now been both the distinction and the bane of “our” medieval studies, since not only the terminology but the most fundamental epistemological categories at our disposal—things as basic as the languages that are considered the legitimate or necessary ones for a medievalist to study in a department in which Spanish medievalists are trained—are still almost invariably at odds with what, explicitly echoing Americo Castro, we might call la realidad historica. Thus part of the answer to the “Why Iberia” question is that the moment is clearly at hand to begin to undo the damage... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Edging Toward IberiaJean Dangler (bio)As I edge toward a complete definition of medieval Iberia, with its constellation of Muslim and Christian realms and Jewish communities from approximately 500 to 1500 CE, I strive for precise word use, for unity and accuracy, but I am always on the perimeter of Iberia’s fullness. I am always at its edge trying to capture it all by researching Castilian kingdoms here (...) and Muslim realms there, or Jewish poets in this instance and Aragonese physicians in that one. Iberia is more than mere geography. Just when I am certain that I have arrived at an airtight definition of the place, its inhabitants, and its cultural production, another contingency emerges to throw my neat design into a state of doubt and disorder. Iberia always eludes me. sI my area of study fully “medieval Iberia?” Do I always consider Portugal after its twelfth-century split from Castile? When dealing with medieval Iberia, how can I separate North Africa from al-Andalus, the name the Muslims gave their Iberian territory? And if I cannot divide them, should my area of study be Iberia and North Africa? Can “Iberia” contain North Africa in its meaning? And where does medieval Iberia fall, in “Christian Europe” (yes), or toward “the Muslim east” (yes), which was not truly “toward the east” at all? How to contain all that diversity in one obligatory word, in one comprehensive toponym?I wonder if trying to find the perfect name for the diversity of the Iberian Middle Ages is an important or worthy undertaking. Many colleagues are content to use limited terms such as “medieval Spain” or “Hispania,” but I am not. A growing number of scholars, such as María Rosa Menocal [“Visions of al-Andalus” 12] and Anthony Pym [14–15], have recently discussed this difficulty in nomenclature, yet I cannot help but think that this is our own modern preoccupation: medieval people surely did not conceive of medieval Iberia in this way. We invented the Middle Ages. Modern scholars especially from the nineteenth century on determined and maintained, however loosely, chronological breaks between what we call Antiquity and the Middle Ages, and between the medieval and early modern periods.1 In addition, scholars often erroneously applied modern values to the past, as demonstrated in studies by, for instance, Norman F. Cantor, John Dagenais, Umberto Eco, Mark D. Meyerson, and Gabrielle M. Spiegel. These investigations point out many modern presumptions about the medieval period, such as about ethnicity, hierarchies of powerful and marginalized groups, gender relations, nationhood, or authorship and book production in medieval manuscript culture. And while the most useful scholarship avoids the unthinking application of modern concepts to the medieval period, it is evident that scholars are always confined by their own limits and values, even if they wish to describe the past with accuracy. It is like walking a tightrope between the medieval period and the present; it is like being on Iberia’s edge, trying to have that broad scope from the twenty-first century to contain it all. But the tightrope, the edge is [End Page 12] like quicksand that constantly shifts; it is a border without limits. Edging toward Iberia is being outside Iberia, moving around it, toward it, but being in it at the same time.One example of how modern constructs continue to inform our understanding of the past is the artificial periodization of the era into roughly ten centuries. Yet even the recognition of the medieval period as a modern invention does not change the practical value of terms such as “medieval” or “the Middle Ages,” which are maintained by scholars and the public alike.2 Eco suggests that to some degree we always recast the Middle Ages in our contemporary image, which manifests in modern novels, movies, and scholarship. He calls attention to the constructed quality of the medieval period by delineating ten types of “Middle Ages” made popular nowadays through media and scholarship, including “the Middle Ages as a barbaric age” and “the Middle Ages... of occult philosophy” [69, 71].How do we characterize or study the medieval period in a way that demonstrates medieval issues and values rather than... (shrink)

We analyse seven research papers from the last twenty years that have studied North African genetic traces in Iberia and which consistently report that the highest concentrations of genetic characteristics associated with the Maghreb are found in northwest Iberia, a region both physically distant from Africa and under Andalusi political control for a shorter period than practically any other. Attempts to historically contextualise such a seemingly anomalous distribution have, we believe, been undermined by a simplistic reading of the (...) historiography, leading to the marginalisation of any early-medieval explanation for these results, in favour of other more historically tenuous alternatives. Accordingly, these studies have been largely ignored by medievalists, further exacerbating a lack of dialogue between disciplines. We suggest that the perceived paradox between length of political control and genetic legacy should be used to challenge the orthodoxy surrounding events in the eighth century, and thus explore the possibility of a more profound Berber influence on northwest Iberia than has hitherto been contemplated, rather than being marginalised by historians interested in said period. (shrink)

Leaving Iberia: Islamic Law and Christian Conquest in North West Africa. By Jocelyn Hendrickson. Harvard Series in Islamic Law, vol. 9. Har- vard: Program in Islamic Law, Harvard Law SchooL, 2021. Pp. xii + 417. $50, £43.95, €45.95. [Distributed by Harvard University Press].

Resenha do livro PATTON, Pamela A.. Envisioning Others: Race, Color, and the Visual in Iberia and Latin America [Tradução do título: Imaginado os/as outros/as: raça, cor e o visual na Ibéria e América Latina ] Leiden, Bel. / Boston, EUA: Brill, 2016. 382p com índice de 6p 63 imagens [Coletânea: The Medieval and Early Modern Iberian World, vol. 62]. ISBN 978-90-04-26917-0 ; ISBN 978-90-04-30215-0.

How can dispute records shed light on the study of dispute settlement processes and their social and political underpinnings? This volume addresses this question by investigating the interplay between record-making, disputing process, and the social and political contexts of conflicts. The authors make use of exceptionally rich charter materials from the Iberian Peninsula, Italy, and Scandinavia, including different types of texts directly and indirectly related to conflicts, in order to contribute to a comparative survey of early medieval dispute records and (...) to a better understanding of the interplay between judicial and other less formal modes of conflict resolution. Contributors are Isabel Alfonso, José M. Andrade, François Bougard, Warren C. Brown, Wendy Davies, Julio Escalona, Kim Esmark, Adam J. Kosto, Juan José Larrea, André Evangelista Marques, Josep M. Salrach, Igor Santos Salazar, and Francesca Tinti. (shrink)

ABSTRACTIt is known that throughout the seventeenth century the world system proposed by Tycho Brahe assumed a preponderant position in the Iberian cosmological debate, according to many opinions the one showing the best agreement to empirical evidence. Moreover, the Tychonian model did not present the difficulties of apparent contradiction with scriptures, as the heliocentric system of Nicolaus Copernicus did, since it kept the earth fixed at the centre of the world. However, Tycho, as a Lutheran author, was targeted by the (...) Inquisition. Passages of various works of the Danish astronomer were included in the Spanish Indices of 1632, 1640 and 1707, although the formal condemnation of the Roman Inquisition never materialized. In the network of the Society of Jesus a seemingly informal censorship also circulated, apparently based on Tridentine determinations, published in 1651 in the influential work of Giambattista Riccioli Almagestum novum. In this paper I will discuss the scope, effects and limitations of the censorship of Tycho's scientific books in Portugal and Spain, through the analysis of several annotated copies, preserved manly in Iberian libraries, with a special attention to books with a well-established provenance in past Jesuit colleges. (shrink)