The modern
concept of time assumes that time is relative. Time can be regarded from
different points on the linear continuum and it seems different from each point
of view. Though flexible in that respect, it’s inflexible in another. A person
perceiving time can be aware of either the past or the present, but not both at
the same time. We can either reminisce about things gone or plan for the future to come.
For us, the
aspects of time are different and separate. The past is gone forever and the
future doesn’t exist yet. Present is but a fleeting moment in between, forcing
us to orient towards either past or the future.
Our way of
thinking would be alien to early modern people. For them, things didn’t change
through time or because of it. Change wasn’t an attribute of time. Instead, time
was perceived as a space where all its aspects were present at the same time. And
all of them could be observed from one point, the present, simultaneously.
Because
change wasn’t assumed, it made sense for the early modern people to use the past
as advice to the present. And because all aspects of time existed in the same
space, it was possible for them to be aware of the past and the future at the
same time – a paradox that tends to baffle the historians of renaissance
thought.
Modern
historians have found it difficult to understand how renaissance humanists
could be interested in the past, wish for a golden age to return, and write utopias
at the same time. Their solution has most often been to ignore one of these
interests and regard the other as the dominant, a very unsatisfactory solution.
Sir Francis
Bacon (1561-1626) is one of the scholars baffling historians. He yearned for the return of
a lost golden age of knowledge, wrote a utopia, the New Atlantis, and developed
a new system of learning that sealed his fame as an ‘advanced’ thinker. The
latter has dominated his reputation and most historians have seen his interest
in the golden age as a ‘quaint’ hobby, a remnant of an age that was already
passing.
But the
confusion disappears when one understands that, for Bacon, time was spatial.
The past and the present weren’t mutually exclusive, they were simultaneous.
For him, his system of learning was about returning the lost knowledge, not by
recreating it or renewing it – updating it to his own time – but by recovering
it as it had been for the benefit of his own time. This would bring about the
lost golden age and elevate his age to its former glory. He is a prime example
of a person who held a spatial concept of time.
New
Atlantis, too, is spatial in the manner of the early utopias. It’s not about a
familiar place in the future; it’s about a strange place in the present time.
Time doesn’t cause the difference but distance. None of the renaissance
scholars imagined a future different from the present.
The paradox
of the static concept of time is, therefore, such only for modern thinkers who
understand time to be relative. For someone who understood time spatially, the
ability to consider the past and the present at the same time was self-evident
and didn’t give cause to commentary. The renaissance scholars, too, become more
understandable when one remembers that they viewed the world – and time –
spatially, not temporally.
Titian: Allegory of Time Governed by Prudence c. 1565.
Past is the old man, future the young, and both are
simultaneous with the middle-aged man who
represents the present.
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You write beautifully. Have you by chance read M. Chapell (2009) Narrative time and trauma theory in Spenser's The faerie queene? where she explores his unusual depictions of Time- time loops, anachronisms, effect preceding cause...I came across this when researching time travel for a sci fi story I am writing, as a psychologist with not much scientific training. I had not been aware that early modern writers did this.
ReplyDeleteSharon
Thank you, Sharon. :) I haven't come across that book. I'll have to take a look.
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