The Yellow Cross: The Story of the Last Cathars' Rebellion Against the Inquisition, 1290-1329 Paperback – August 13, 2002

A very intimate portrait of medieval life, well researched and writtenA great piece of history on an era that is not often seen

This is a book about events that happened long ago. It's about the Cathars.They called themselves "the true Christians" as opposed to the Roman Church. They had no chance at all against the power of the established Church. They payed the ultimate price for being "Heretics"This should be compulsive reading for anyone genuinely interested in Religion.

If you love great history, this is your book. If you love a great story, this is your book.

Good history and very well researched. A bit tedious to get through as the author gets very detailed and the book becomes a bit of a slog at times.

In The Yellow Cross, Rene Weis presents a detailed, daily, even hourly, account of the lives of the Albigensian majority of the village of Montaillou, in the French Pyrenees, as they try, with partial success, to ward off the Inquisition during several confrontations (1300-1325). They do it though subterfuge, cunning, courage, exile, and on occasion, truly Jesuitical testimony. Their behavior confirms the claims of both their opponents and their modern apologists. Many of the Cathar perfects, and some of the other Cathars, were faithful to the asceticism they professed. On the other hand, the dominant family in Montaillou, which Weis describes as being like Mafiosi, took advantage of their power and corrupt connections to escape scrutiny while abusing the faithful Christians in the village, falsely denouncing their enemies to the Inquisition, and even murdering them. Some of the Cathar men and women, including Montaillou's nominally orthodox parish priest, took advantage of Cathar doctrine to procure lives of sexual profligacy that did not stop at rape.I once imagined a town for a never-written novel that was founded by a Protestant sect organized upon Jesus' declaration "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." (Mt. 18:20). The sect held that this meant that a congregation for worship could number no more than three. The sect split further, with a splinter group holding that the passage referred to individuals while the majority thought it meant heads of households.I was reminded of this comic fantasy by a lesson given by one of the Cathar perfects on the Scriptural basis of Catharism. It amounted to a similarly narrow, selective interpretation of John's Gospel in service to a classically dualist mythology of a rebel angel creating matter, including human bodies, then sneaking into heaven to steal souls. Weis does not dwell much on Cathar doctrine; he introduces this exposition only because it was recounted by one of the Cathars and recorded by an Inquisition scribe. Likewise, the Cathars' fundamentally anti-life precepts are revealed in the casuistry of a seducer: When his target protests that sex should be confined to marriage, he responds that all sex is bad, but it is worse between spouses, because there it produces new life; anyway, it doesn't matter what we do now, because if we receive the Cathar consolatum before we die, all will be forgiven. As several episodes show, after the consolatum the patient entered the endura, in which he was deprived of food and water to ensure death.On the other side, one is impressed by the restraint and rationality of the inquisitors in the story, who in their investigations did not use torture, adhered to prescribed rules of procedure and evidence, and were more concerned with correction than punishment. Some of the accused successfully pleaded not guilty. Repentant first offenders received relatively mild punishments, such as wearing a yellow cross (enforcement was lax and impossible in remote mountain villages like Montaillou). Only the most flagrant and recidivist heretics were condemned to the stake. Like the Carthaginians, the Cathars give the lie to the progressive bromide about violence and oppression never settling anything.This is a book that will give your preconceptions a thorough shaking out. Weis sets his story of the last Cathars within a picture of life in a mediaeval region. These peasants and bourgeoisie are not the manure spattered brutes of cartoon history. In an age when walking was the only means of transportation, they moved, visited, and traveled widely between villages, towns, and cities. They built, produced, bought, and sold. They moved as freely into Spain as they did to Toulouse. It is as though the people of Wilmington, Philadelphia, and Trenton were all pedestrians. Without gainsaying a bit of the incredible affluence of America in 2001, we have to admit that these men and women of 700 years ago are vigorous and comfortably clothed and fed, though death is sudden and implacable in a way that is stunning to someone accustomed to the coddling of modern medicine. Nor are they the downtrodden common folk of democratic conceit. The women are outspoken and active, and as bold and devious as the men. Nobles and knights do not ride them down while laughing sardonically. In fact, the ruling class seems to have little contact with them, directly or indirectly. There is a small castle in Montaillou, but only one of the aristocracy plays any part in the story, and she puts on no airs and receives little deference.Weis' writing is as wonderfully clear and engaging as that of Simon Schama, David Hackett Fischer, and Victor Davis Hanson. He deploys a deep familiarity with the record in a relaxed narrative style that uses novelistic techniques, such as tantalizing allusions to events that are fully explained only much later. He has immersed himself in his subjects' words and in their countryside. He sometimes illuminates a villager's behavior with a comment drawn from his own experiences on the ground, such as being caught in a sudden storm in the mountains, or demonstrates the uncertainty of the inquisitor's position by comparing the official Latin with the original transcription in Occitan. The result is a warm, human tale of almost cinematic vividness. Although I have no sympathy for Catharism, I came to share Weis' affection for his subjects and sympathized with their defeats.There are many fine maps and an excellent, helpful index. The color photographs are not of equal quality.

Good book. Used it for readings in a History Book Club at our local library. Quite an interesting story about live in southern French villages and religious issues within them.

Some say you should give a book fifty pages to interest you, and if nothing happens, give up. At page 100, I'm still not interested, but I haven't given up. The first fifty pages were amazingly dull. So far, I'm not happy I didn't give up. If my opinion changes before the end (if I get to the end), I'll revise this review.

An exceptional presentation based heavily on historical records. Weis refrains from undue speculation and lets the records speak. Nevertheless, his exquistive writing helps bring the story to life. Ironically, the Inquisitions own detailed records from 1290-1329 were preserved and enabled Weis to recreate many of the activities in the village of Montaillou, France.Cathar religion is not the focus of this history, but elements of Cathar thought and practice are unavoidably present. The pluses and minuses of being a Cathar are presented, at least for the residents of Montaillou. Despite the asceticim of Cathar spiritual leaders, the sexual promiscuity of some Cathars is not glossed over.Sadly, in this case, the reason for the Inquistions interest in Montaillou seems to have been, not primarily their religious difference but the reluctance of people in that area to pay the Church's taxes.I read this book in 3 days, but I took a break after every 2 chapters or so because following all the detail challenged my focus. The amount of detail Weis was able to assemble is staggering. To his credit, he kept the story flowing. I've never read history at this fine a granularity. I never before was aware what life in medieval Europe might be like.Weis seems superhuman. How he assimilated so many facts and presented it so clearly and vividly is far beyond my understanding. A work of this quality and power seem to me very rare [Another book on Montaillou, by Ladurie, may be even more detailed, enough to perhaps be of interest only to academicians, but apparently makes a heavily pro-Church interpretation]. Even if the Cathars are not your interest, I'd recommend this book for its extraordinary presentation of life in a medieval village. I've never before felt this connected to people of the Middle Ages: I'm very impressed by them.