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John RuskinA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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Ruskin received a religious upbringing from his mother, an evangelical Christian, and an essentially religious worldview informs The Stones of Venice. One notable statement of this worldview comes in Book 1, Chapter 2, in which Ruskin argues that human nature must be dedicated to God in order to become truly human (35). His religious convictions are also applied to art and architecture, as he argues that this human artform must take its primary inspiration from “God’s work”—i.e., the beauties of nature (37).
Ruskin’s preferences for imitating the natural world appear again when he discusses sculptural ornamentation, as he argues that it should imitate foliage and other natural forms instead of human phenomena (101). Ruskin even treats the Matterhorn, a mountain in the Alps, as an example of architecture and proposes it as a sublime model for human architecture (51). Indeed, Ruskin posits that one of the essential “virtues of building” is the need to express through architecture “man’s delight in better work than his own” (37, emphasis added)—i.e., God’s creation in nature. The idea that God is the ultimate artist or architect, and that human art is an imitation of divine creation, is a traditional theological trope which Ruskin uses here to establish a profound spiritual and moral basis for his aesthetics.
Ruskin’s view of architecture as possessing an important spiritual dimension also informs which architectural movements he favors and why. Ruskin valorizes the Gothic, not just because of how it looks but because of what he believes it represents: a sincere spirituality and a Christian worldview. He praises it for its “extreme love of truth” (171) and holds up the church at Torcello as an exemplar of architecture reflecting the deep faith of its designers and builders. Ruskin believes that by imitating nature, we get closer to God and thus become more spiritual and holy.
By contrast, Ruskin asserts that one of the crowning failures of Renaissance art and architecture is that it was too often the result of pride instead of piety. By taking a self-satisfied pleasure in our own works, he suggests, we become prideful and lose contact with the divine. He claims that the Renaissance was marred by “Pride and Infidelity,” with artists becoming more obsessed with the perfection of forms and rules than in seeking to imitate the divine. Ruskin thus advocates for a Revising of the Standard Narrative of Art History in proclaiming the Gothic superior to its successors, arguing that it is the Gothic style that is more befitting a Christian nation.
Ruskin treats the Ducal Palace as the keystone not only of the architecture of Venice but of that of the Western world as a whole. Venice itself appears in Ruskin’s narrative as a microcosm or meeting-ground of the major ancient and medieval cultures, with its art an amalgam of all of these influences. For Ruskin, Venice is thus a cornerstone of world civilization while also reflecting the movements of Western art and history in its architecture.
Roman (from Italy) and Byzantine (from Greece) influences formed the backbone of the original art of Venice. The Lombards, a Germanic tribe that conquered much of northern Italy, added their architectural style to the mix, as did the Arabs through their contact with the Byzantine world during the Middle Ages. Finally, when Gothic architecture developed in northern Europe in the High Middle Ages, it eventually traveled to Venice and formed a major element in the buildings of the city’s mature artistic period.
Trade was one of the main ways by which Venice absorbed and combined these disparate cultural influences. Strategically situated on the Adriatic Sea and at the crossroads of Western, Eastern, Southern and Central Europe, Venice was able to establish contacts with a wide variety of peoples and cultures. The city’s political stability for much of its history also attracted admiration and created an openness to other cultures and influences. The Crusades brought Venice into further contact with the Near Eastern world, while the travels of the Venetian-born explorer Marco Polo made Europe aware of China and the Far East.
Ruskin implies that Venice at its height reflected in its architecture both the historical and geographical breadth of Western and Near Eastern civilization, with a Greco-Roman basis enriched by contacts with northern European and Arabic culture and art. He regards its embrace of the Gothic as its cultural high point, an era in which Venice rose as a power while also projecting a devout Christian image in its art and architecture. As a microcosm of the wider world and larger cultural and artistic trends, analyzing Venice gives Ruskin the opportunity for sharing his views on wider aspects of Western culture as well.
Throughout The Stones of Venice, Ruskin attempts to overturn one very common way of viewing Western art and architectural history. From the Renaissance onward, a “standard narrative” held that the Middle Ages were a backward and “barbarous” era and that the Renaissance (“rebirth”) rescued Western art and culture, representing a leap forward. In the 19th century, the Romantic movement questioned this view. Taking a second look at the medieval period, Romantic artists and writers found it rich in values that were neglected by the modern age (See: Background). Ruskin explicitly argues against the idea that “Gothic, Romanesque, or Byzantine forms” are “barbarous” and insists that, on the contrary, they are “most noble and beautiful” (235).
To take one example of art in St. Mark’s Basilica, Ruskin argues that medieval frescoes teach religious and moral truths just as effectively as reading the Bible and that they, in fact, served as the main form of instruction in an era before most of the population was literate (154-55). As Ruskin proclaims, “So far am I from considering them barbarous, that I believe of all works of religious art whatsoever, these, and such as these, have been the most effective” (155, emphasis added). Since Ruskin believes in art and Architecture as Reflecting Nature and Creation, and since for Ruskin what is most natural and truthful aligns with what is Christian, the sincere piety and simplicity of the medieval frescoes are worthy of praise. For Ruskin, nothing that is technically accomplished but spiritually lacking could ever hope to surpass such devoutly Christian works.
Ruskin, however, does not simply defend styles of art that were commonly disparaged; he turns the standard narrative completely around, arguing that it was the Middle Ages that represented the highest artistic achievement, not the Renaissance. Furthermore, he claims the Renaissance was not only inferior to its Medieval forebear, but a corrupting influence on culture. This was principally because of Renaissance artists’ unquestioning adherence to the forms and standards of classical Greco-Roman art and the questionable aesthetic and moral results the Renaissance produced. This claim forms the core of Ruskin’s argument for bringing back the forms and spirit of Gothic architecture in Victorian London: As a Christian and northern nation, he asserts, a Gothic revival will be more suitable for England than the continuation of the Renaissance’s Greco-Roman tradition.
Ruskin’s reversal of the received narrative of art history proved powerful for generations of readers, leading to a wholesale reappraisal of the Middle Ages and other periods and cultures that were outside of the mainstream of artistic development since the Western Renaissance. In this way, The Stones of Venice made an important contribution to the Gothic revival of the 19th century and beyond.
Ruskin’s arguments in the book are underpinned by his conviction that a society’s moral and spiritual health is closely reflected in the art and architecture it produces. In Ruskin’s analysis, the beauty and excellence of Byzantine, Romanesque, and Gothic art corresponded with a culture that was inspired by Christian faith and values. By contrast, the Renaissance brought a more secular spirit focused on the achievements of man instead of an admiration of “God’s work.” This pride, Ruskin argues, led to the downfall of Venetian society and to a degradation in the quality of art to mere imitation and striving for novelty.
For Ruskin, the self-centered attitude of Renaissance artists was accompanied by a loss of faith in religious and spiritual values. He claims that the Renaissance was defined by “Pride and Infidelity,” leading artists to become more absorbed in man-made creations and the perfecting of forms and techniques, to the neglect of more spiritual inspiration. He sees this lack of reverence even reflected in the church of Santa Maria Formosa, which he finds “entirely destitute of every religious symbol, sculpture, or inscription” (239) and dedicated to the glory of an individual instead of to God.
Such lack of spirituality led by degrees to the corruption of society as a whole, and Ruskin uses his analysis of Venice to serve as a microcosm of this broader European-wide trend. First, the “serious, religious, and sincere” (242) attitude characteristic of Venice’s golden age gave way to a tendency toward political ruthlessness and calculation. Then, this “stern and subtle policy” (242) was succeeded by a love for frivolity and sensuality typical of the Venice of the 18th century, close to its demise: “She now sowed in laughter the seeds of death” (243). Thus, just as the Gothic architecture of the Middle Ages reflected and inspired a society filled with devout Christian values, so too did the more secular-minded and worldly Renaissance reflect and encourage a society that was becoming more hedonistic and, to Ruskin, less artistically worthy.
As well as being a description of cultural history, Ruskin’s moral argument is meant to be a cautionary tale for the England of his time, which was seen by many as becoming indifferent to moral values in the wake of the Industrial Revolution, with its new emphasis on materialism and the pursuit of profit. Indeed, the moralism—informed by traditional Christianity—of Ruskin’s point of view is typical of many thinkers and writers of the Victorian era in Britain in their commentary on their times. Ruskin’s moral theory also informs his promotion of the Gothic style as embodying the spiritual values he believes necessary for England’s future.