Friday, January 20, 2017

Montecorvino (3)

The good news is that I have completed the draft copy of the chapter about the experience of Montecorvino. I have also realized that it will be my last chapter in this unit as well as in the  entire manuscript. 
While collecting data for this unit, I decided to include genuine travelers who described their own experience with the Far East. I was also interested in people who knew how to tell fact from fiction. My initial list included about 15 names but only three of them meet my criteria: Plano Carpini, William of Rubruck, and John of Montecorvino. I also pondered on John of Marignolli, Odoric of Pordenone, and Jordanus de Severac. However, in spite of their long stay in India, China, or South-Eastern Asia, their writings abound with the "received wisdom" of authors who had never visited these places. 
I would like you to read an additional extract from my last chapter which tells about the Onggut prince who assisted John in his first steps on the Chinese soil.  

"On the way to Khanbalik, the papal legate managed to convert a real prince. The scion from the Onggut ruling house and the son-in-law of the Great Khan, Kuolijisi received baptism, picking up the Christian name George. Born in the “Nestorian” persuasion, like many of his countrymen, this high-profile disciple resolved to cross the lines after the encounter with a gifted preacher.  
To give a personal example to his subjects, Prince George took minor orders which enabled him to assist Montecorvino in celebrating the Mass. To draw more supporters to his new faith, the provincial ruler built a house of worship named the “Roman church”, the maiden Catholic edifice on the Chinese soil. When our friar had to leave for Khanbalik, the beloved disciple gave him a lavish grant to pursue his mission. The potentate even called his son Shu’an [Chinese for “John”] in the memory of his spiritual friend.
The contemporary Chinese sources, who know George as Kuolijisi, Prince of Gaotang, are mum concerning his devotion to Christianity. They depict him within a framework of the Onggut chief and a Chinese intellectual. Well-versed in Confucian studies, he collected a mammoth library containing thousands of manuscripts at his residence, and entertained his court, leading conversations with distinguished scholars. He used to talk with court philosophers about the whole range of cosmological subjects, including yin-yang teaching, astrology, numerology, and zodiac signs.
It might be that Prince George served the two masters, finding no contradiction in the blend of the Confucian philosophy and the Roman Catholicism. The latter would introduce him to universal values while the former would bind him to the native land.

The allegiance of the Onnguts to Rome was short-lived and didn’t outlast Prince George’s death. During the reign of his brother, most of the adepts returned to their mother Church. 


Friday, January 6, 2017

John of Montecorvino (2)

Having finished collecting the data about the first Catholic archbishop of Beijing, I started to write the first draft of the chapter. This is going to be the third chapter of the last unit of my manuscript. The following extract explains the shift in the task laid on western travelers eastward, from reconnaissance to missionary work.

 Toward the end of the thirteenth century, the leading powers of the world realized that the East Asia was going to be their next playground. The Lord Pope, not intending to fall behind, made up his mind to spread his reconnaissance network to cover this novel venue.
His choice fell on a forty-two-year-old friar priest with ample diplomatic experience and close familiarity with the Middle Eastern politics. John of Montecorvino had been involved in negotiations for the reunion of Constantinople with Rome and was well connected to the courts of the Il-Khan of Persia and the king of Armenia.
John set off in a disguise as a missionary to sow the word of God among the heathens of India and China. To make his mission a success, the Franciscan friar had to reach the court of the Great Khan in Khanbalik (Beijing) and convert him to Christianity. Did the Pope truly believe that it was possible?
Since the ongoing hostilities choke the land road via the Caspian Sea and the Central Asia, the papal legate opted for a marital route, embarking in Hormus, a port on the Persian Gulf, on a dhow bound for southern India.  This ocean-going vessel made of sewn plunks with a double-ended hull, a lateen sail, and a pair of steering oars at the stern was designed to deliver pearls and Arab horses to foreign harbors. Taking advantage of monsoon winds, it would sail overseas in winter and made a return trip in summer.
The ocean passage was hazardous. Our passenger, who was used to relatively safe travel across the Mediterranean, put no trust in local boats which were “sewn like clothes with twine” and liable to leaks. They seemed utterly unsuitable for a deep-water voyage, being “mighty frail and uncouth” and lacking iron nails and caulking. Their only sail, made of “matting or some miserable cloth”, fluttered in the breeze like a miserable butterfly. Off the Malabar Coast they were in constant danger of running aground against countless reefs and shoals. [Henry Yule, (ed.) Cathay and the Way Thither, vol. iii. (New Delhi: Asia Educational Services, 2005), 66-67.
While watching the nocturnal sky, the traveler was puzzled by another peculiarity: the Polar Star lay unexpectedly low, suggesting the proximity to the equator.  [Ibid, 60] 


A dhow in the Indian Ocean 
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dhow#/media/File:Dhow_znz.jpg