No que toca a acudir a si próprios, médicos, bruxos e deuses estão no mesmo pé, indefesos.
Se tu és o Rei dos Judeus, salva-te então a ti próprio. Lucas XIII, 23.
O texto que reproduzo em seguida foi extraído de Eliza Lynn Linton, Witch Stories, 1861. De complexo entendimento, para não utilizar o tópico incompreendida, porque tal remeteria desde logo para a intenção do receptor e não para a complexidade do emissor, E. L. Linton, todavia não expressamente uma activista, bem pelo contrário, mas tão só um sujeito que se impôs para lá das restrições impostas ao alcance do seu feminino género, desperta ainda hoje díspares avaliações no domínio da história, ou narrativa do movimento feminista britânico. A sua precursora argúcia fica registada neste pequeno trecho:
(…); a straw – a broomstick- the serviceable imp ever at hand- was enough for them; and with a pot of magic ointment, and a charm of spoken gibberish, they may visit the king on his throne, , or the lady on her bower, to do what ill was in their hearts against them, or to gather to themselves what gain and store they would. Yet with all this power the superstitious world of the time saw nothing doubtful or illogical in the fact of their exceeding poverty, and never stayed to think that if they could transport themselves through the air to any distance they chose, they would be but slippery holding in prison, and not very likely remain there for the pleasure of being tortured and burnt at the end. But neither reason nor logic had anything to do with the matter. (…)
É óbvio que a autora se está a referir ao histerismo da caça às bruxas, que trespassaria inesperadamente o dealbar da modernidade, questionando-se sobre quem cria nelas ou as inventava, se elas próprias, se os arautos da razão.
E para compreendermos bem o que a autora quer sugerir, não será inoportuno reportar os mais claros indícios da ingénua crença da medicina na bruxaria, ora ao alcance do seu foro, ora fora dele.
Physicians were involved in witches’ trials in many
ways. Often, they were called upon to diagnose the
malady of a “bewitched” or “possessed” person.
If they were able to identify the illness, their opinion
was usually (but not always) respected, and the case
against the presumed witch was accordingly dropped.
Belief in possession has been fairly common
throughout the history of religion. Tales abound of
people into whose body, it was believed, another
being or creature had entered, causing hysteria,
convulsions, and aberrant behaviour. The victim was
said to develop the physiognomy, personality, even
the voice of the possessing demon. Once the
physician had adjudged a victim to be not suffering
from any recognizable malady, the case passed into
the hands of the Church, whose exorcists were
responsible for any subsequent “treatment” of the
possessed.
When a witch was arraigned, a physician was
supposed to examine both her physical and mental
condition and determine her fitness to undergo the
requisite torture. (Since there were relatively few
physicians, these examinations were generally
conducted by barbers or barber-surgeons, unless a
given case was of unusual importance.) Physicians or
barber-surgeons were also required to tend the
accused (though not excessively) during torture, and,
in general, to serve as a sort of medical advisor to the
court.
Examination of the accused, in accord with
contemporary demonology. included a search for the
so-called “devil’s stigmata.” These were insensitive
marks on the skin, such as red spots, ulcers, or
depressions, which were considered proof of having
had sexual relations with the Devil.
Physicians were often responsible for treating
persons “bewitched.” One of the first books
describing the treatment of illnesses caused by
witchcraft was Giovanni Battista Codronchi’s De
morbis veneficis ac veneficiis libri quatuor, published
in 1595. Codronchi devoted a part of his work to the
description of illnesses caused by witchcraft. Then, in there are records of the examination by
a relatively progressive manner (one of his daughters was also “bewitched”), he tried to explain and recommend their treatment.
There are records of the examination by physicians and pharmacists of so-called witches’ ointments and philtres. They contained many extracts from hallucinogenic herbs and effects were either unknown or not well understood. Witches’ experiences, wrote Weyer, are delirious dreams induced by drugs. Elsewhere he wrote that witches’ dreams were caused by the somniferous drugs in their ointments, and added to this list of familiar European substances such Oriental drugs as opium and hashish.
Jaroslav Nemec, National Library od Medicine, London, 1974.
Ora aqui temos uma parábola, porque o itinerário é de facto parabólico, com um sentido muito próximo do daqueloutra do lobo, do cordeiro e da couve. Os clérigos não importunariam a medicina, enquanto ela participasse na caça à bruxaria. Em breve, acusariam os médicos de bruxos, até que os médicos, muito mais tolerantes já em relação à bruxaria, que haviam transferido para o foro clínico, passassem a perseguir os clérigos.
Bem, no período histórico, da sua história, claro, a que se reporta esta abordagem de Jaroslav Nemec, despontava no universo do experimentalismo médico a sistematização dos dados adquiridos em duas áreas, a anatomia, consequentemente a cirurgia, e a urologia.
Ora, não é inoportuno questionar-me sobre se muitas das genericamente denominadas witch bottles, que despertam ainda uma curiosidade fetichista deambulante entre uma etnografia inepta e o culto do insólito, não serão meros recipientes de ensaio de urologistas farmacêuticos. É que a urina foi não apenas um medium para o diagnóstico, como um medium para o metabolismo de certos fármacos. Depois, em muitas delas abundam fragmentos metálicos, o que pressupõe a experimentação da acção de ácidos sobre certos metais, ou mesmo algumas substâncias biológicas.
Vale a pena ler, de Robert Graves, Difficult questions, easy answers, Garden City, NY, Doubleday & Co, 1973. Era muito remoto o conhecimento empírico de que a urina constituía o melhor medium para potenciar a acção de alguns alucinogéneos, ou anestésicos na nomenclatura respeitante ao uso clínico.
Na própria ambiguidade antinómica da nomenclatura, alucinogéneo quando o seu consumo determina a acção terapêutica e anestésico quando o seu uso se integra na prática clínica, se deixam antever múltiplos sentidos de exploração.
O texto que reproduzo em seguida foi extraído de Eliza Lynn Linton, Witch Stories, 1861. De complexo entendimento, para não utilizar o tópico incompreendida, porque tal remeteria desde logo para a intenção do receptor e não para a complexidade do emissor, E. L. Linton, todavia não expressamente uma activista, bem pelo contrário, mas tão só um sujeito que se impôs para lá das restrições impostas ao alcance do seu feminino género, desperta ainda hoje díspares avaliações no domínio da história, ou narrativa do movimento feminista britânico. A sua precursora argúcia fica registada neste pequeno trecho:
(…); a straw – a broomstick- the serviceable imp ever at hand- was enough for them; and with a pot of magic ointment, and a charm of spoken gibberish, they may visit the king on his throne, , or the lady on her bower, to do what ill was in their hearts against them, or to gather to themselves what gain and store they would. Yet with all this power the superstitious world of the time saw nothing doubtful or illogical in the fact of their exceeding poverty, and never stayed to think that if they could transport themselves through the air to any distance they chose, they would be but slippery holding in prison, and not very likely remain there for the pleasure of being tortured and burnt at the end. But neither reason nor logic had anything to do with the matter. (…)
É óbvio que a autora se está a referir ao histerismo da caça às bruxas, que trespassaria inesperadamente o dealbar da modernidade, questionando-se sobre quem cria nelas ou as inventava, se elas próprias, se os arautos da razão.
E para compreendermos bem o que a autora quer sugerir, não será inoportuno reportar os mais claros indícios da ingénua crença da medicina na bruxaria, ora ao alcance do seu foro, ora fora dele.
Physicians were involved in witches’ trials in many
ways. Often, they were called upon to diagnose the
malady of a “bewitched” or “possessed” person.
If they were able to identify the illness, their opinion
was usually (but not always) respected, and the case
against the presumed witch was accordingly dropped.
Belief in possession has been fairly common
throughout the history of religion. Tales abound of
people into whose body, it was believed, another
being or creature had entered, causing hysteria,
convulsions, and aberrant behaviour. The victim was
said to develop the physiognomy, personality, even
the voice of the possessing demon. Once the
physician had adjudged a victim to be not suffering
from any recognizable malady, the case passed into
the hands of the Church, whose exorcists were
responsible for any subsequent “treatment” of the
possessed.
When a witch was arraigned, a physician was
supposed to examine both her physical and mental
condition and determine her fitness to undergo the
requisite torture. (Since there were relatively few
physicians, these examinations were generally
conducted by barbers or barber-surgeons, unless a
given case was of unusual importance.) Physicians or
barber-surgeons were also required to tend the
accused (though not excessively) during torture, and,
in general, to serve as a sort of medical advisor to the
court.
Examination of the accused, in accord with
contemporary demonology. included a search for the
so-called “devil’s stigmata.” These were insensitive
marks on the skin, such as red spots, ulcers, or
depressions, which were considered proof of having
had sexual relations with the Devil.
Physicians were often responsible for treating
persons “bewitched.” One of the first books
describing the treatment of illnesses caused by
witchcraft was Giovanni Battista Codronchi’s De
morbis veneficis ac veneficiis libri quatuor, published
in 1595. Codronchi devoted a part of his work to the
description of illnesses caused by witchcraft. Then, in there are records of the examination by
a relatively progressive manner (one of his daughters was also “bewitched”), he tried to explain and recommend their treatment.
There are records of the examination by physicians and pharmacists of so-called witches’ ointments and philtres. They contained many extracts from hallucinogenic herbs and effects were either unknown or not well understood. Witches’ experiences, wrote Weyer, are delirious dreams induced by drugs. Elsewhere he wrote that witches’ dreams were caused by the somniferous drugs in their ointments, and added to this list of familiar European substances such Oriental drugs as opium and hashish.
Jaroslav Nemec, National Library od Medicine, London, 1974.
Ora aqui temos uma parábola, porque o itinerário é de facto parabólico, com um sentido muito próximo do daqueloutra do lobo, do cordeiro e da couve. Os clérigos não importunariam a medicina, enquanto ela participasse na caça à bruxaria. Em breve, acusariam os médicos de bruxos, até que os médicos, muito mais tolerantes já em relação à bruxaria, que haviam transferido para o foro clínico, passassem a perseguir os clérigos.
Bem, no período histórico, da sua história, claro, a que se reporta esta abordagem de Jaroslav Nemec, despontava no universo do experimentalismo médico a sistematização dos dados adquiridos em duas áreas, a anatomia, consequentemente a cirurgia, e a urologia.
Ora, não é inoportuno questionar-me sobre se muitas das genericamente denominadas witch bottles, que despertam ainda uma curiosidade fetichista deambulante entre uma etnografia inepta e o culto do insólito, não serão meros recipientes de ensaio de urologistas farmacêuticos. É que a urina foi não apenas um medium para o diagnóstico, como um medium para o metabolismo de certos fármacos. Depois, em muitas delas abundam fragmentos metálicos, o que pressupõe a experimentação da acção de ácidos sobre certos metais, ou mesmo algumas substâncias biológicas.
Vale a pena ler, de Robert Graves, Difficult questions, easy answers, Garden City, NY, Doubleday & Co, 1973. Era muito remoto o conhecimento empírico de que a urina constituía o melhor medium para potenciar a acção de alguns alucinogéneos, ou anestésicos na nomenclatura respeitante ao uso clínico.
Na própria ambiguidade antinómica da nomenclatura, alucinogéneo quando o seu consumo determina a acção terapêutica e anestésico quando o seu uso se integra na prática clínica, se deixam antever múltiplos sentidos de exploração.
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