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Piotr Tomicki , bishop of Cracow (d.1535) - beneficiary of an extra book chapter
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Throughout last term, colleagues and
students kindly kept asking how the book was going, and I would say ‘I think
it’s on schedule’. I’d built a fair amount of slack into the book-writing
timetable, but a whole month of that was used up when I made the slightly
unwelcome discovery in February that I would have to add another chapter, slap
in the middle of the monograph.
Having spent several years planning and
structuring the book, it did seem a bit careless to suddenly discover a gap
where a chapter should be. I’ve
been wondering how this came about, and whether it was down to some rudimentary
error on my part. So I offer this as a case-study in how a chapter can
ambush you...
The original concept was for Elusive Church to have two parts – one
discussing responses to the early Reformation by the Polish Crown, and the
second responses by bishops & high clergy. It seemed perfectly simple.
However, as I wrote up, it became clear that the Part II chapters which
were meant to be about specific church policies (preaching, prosecution) would work
better if they directly addressed the question which really stood at their
heart, i.e. how contemporaries understood and articulated the differences
between ‘catholics’ and ‘Lutherans’, if indeed they saw much difference at all.
So Part II quietly morphed in my mind from a survey of church policies, into a
series of chapters exploring contemporary Polish-Prussian
understandings of Lutheranism, Catholicism and reform itself.
That reconceptualisation of Part
II seemed to work well, except that it left the policies of bishops
(inquisitions, preaching campaigns, sponsored polemics) without a home, and these were clearly an important part of the story. So the book has now acquired
a new chapter 6, which takes a handful of Poland’s top bishops as
case-studies, and traces their evolving responses to Reformation activity in their own dioceses. It didn’t require any extra research, as I had all the
material to hand, but it still took over 3 weeks to draft.
My sense is that this kind of thing happens because one's thinking about a book’s core
argument and shape is always ongoing – in the background, in subtle,
half-conscious tweaks and shifts of perspective here and there – and sometimes
those processes can throw up big jolts, like tremors. That’s why a book-in-progress feels like
a organic object, and why it can sometimes break through the mould of even extensive planning – and that, I think, is a positive thing, a sign of life inside the work. Those jolts may be risky, but they are also creative.