Self-help from the middle ages What the seven deadly sins can teach us about living

Historian Jones debuts with an illuminating and eclectic survey of how medieval thinkers grappled with perennial psychological challenges through the framework of the seven deadly sins. Drawn to the topic when his own "burnout, disillusionment, and... melancholy" made him wonder how someone from 700 years ago would have weathered a similar crisis, Jones delved into art and literature of the High and Later Middle Ages--from 1100 to 1500 CE--a period he suggests was uniquely preoccupied with "understanding the human mind." Thirteenth-century Parisian theologian Jean de la Rochelle thought each of the sins was "a form of distorted love" that tips over into disorder when "we feel it too strongly," and in the 14th century Petrarch framed envy as an emotion with positive characteristics--curiosity, obsessiveness--that might be harnessed "to achieve something... useful." Catalonian doctor Arnaud de Vilanova (1240--1311) experimented with a series of ineffective drugs for treating anger, including one potion made of ox tongue and wine purported to cure rage overnight by balancing the body's four humours, while working to fortify his heart with "love and compassion" to prevent anger from taking root. Throughout, the author interweaves colorful details of medieval therapies with a compassionate commentary on how the "most intimate struggles of our lives" are part of a quest to understand the human condition that's existed for nearly as long as humanity itself. This captivates. (Apr.)

A historian works to make the late Middle Ages' preoccupation with vice relevant in our modern world. In an attempt to wrest pride, envy, anger, sloth, avarice, gluttony, and lust from the shrines of religion and even ridicule, Jones turns to medieval art, early medical practices, widely recognized writers and thinkers (like St. Francis of Assisi, Dante, and St. Thomas Aquinas), and lesser-known characters of niche study. Of particular interest to the author is the blurred space, the temptations and traps where lauded behavior and modern-day virtues reach into nefarious and disorienting territory. How do self-confidence and ambition become narcissistic, domineering pride and backstabbing envy, for example, or when does grief tilt into the paralyzing "inertia" of sloth? For others among the "Seven," the challenge is to position them as consequential at all, given the ways our world has fallen captive, desensitized to materialistic consumer culture, social media trolling, pornography, and discriminating tastes. Despite methodical research and enthusiasm for his subject, this proves difficult. Jones' march through antiquated texts is at times hollow and convoluted, further muddied by the effortful endeavor to tie them to his own experiences as a professor in the Siberian tundra. Over-wrung anecdotes often end up defanging the sin they are meant to illustrate. But perhaps this tempering is part of the point. Jones insists that the sins are a way of "mapping the mind," less about hand-wringing morality and more about avoiding alienation from one's self and one's community. Thus the key to understanding the Seven and the disconnection and disruption they can cause is rooted in a combination of moderation, clear-sighted self-awareness, and recognition for how our habits, even questionable ones, reinforce or undermine our relationships with others--all digestible within modern sensibilities. A scholarly and forgiving rethinking of problematic behavior for a world sketched by psychology and secularism. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.