Among the thousands of books in the basement of the Lillian Goldman Law Library, these twenty books stand out: they’re hundreds of years old, some decorated with vivid blue and gold ink, and sit in a special case set at a cool 70.9 degrees.
This semester, these ancient books make up a new exhibition: The Pope’s Other Jobs: Judge and Lawgiver. The exhibit features medieval texts, written primarily in Latin, that date back to sixteenth century Europe. These featured pieces focus on the legal role of the Pope—a responsibility just as important as his religious leadership, since canon law, or the law of the church, became the Roman Empire’s primary legal system in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
The exhibit is split into two glass cases, each of which has a similar balance of large tomes and tiny, intricate books. The largest manuscript is centered in the first glass case, but there is no apparent reason for the curators’ aesthetic choices. Nevertheless, the books, with their smudged pages and worn-out bindings lend an elegant, medieval beauty to the exhibit. While the Rare Book Exhibition Gallery is tucked away in the L2 level of the library, there are occasional passersby, including an elderly lady I noticed in my last visit, immersed in the books and their summaries.
Once you get over the thrill of being a glass panel away from these precious centuries-old works, you notice the helpful summaries written by the curators, Professor Anders Winroth and Rare Book Librarian Michael Widener. For those who aren’t fluent in medieval Latin, these summaries explain the broader context in each manuscript and help to clarify the books’ significance in the exhibit. A depiction of a group of men centered around a table that could be mistaken for King Arthur and the Round Table is instead revealed to be a group named the Roman Rota, which gathered to render judgments on legal cases when the Pope was busy.
Ranging in topics from animal rights to law enforcement, the books in The Pope’s Other Jobs explore the evolution of historical issues. They have a lot to offer for any average, up-to-date, politically inclined individual. While the documents all differ in dates and locations, the nonlinear narrative of the exhibit doesn’t come off as scattered or jumpy. Instead, the variety of sources gives the exhibit a broader and more comprehensive perspective on the legacies of medieval Popes.
The summaries are mostly straightforward, but there is one moment of levity in the summary of my personal favorite book in the exhibit, Modus legend abbreviaturas in utroque jure Proccessus Sathane infernalis contra genus humanum. The sixteenth-century book appealed to the lawyer in me, as the summary explains how Satan “deserved his day in court” and sued Jesus Christ, ironically demanding restitution for Christ’s unjust seizure of mankind.
The exhibition is truly a history buff’s dream. And for the average passerby who may be easily drawn in by elegant Latin letters and gold binding, the exhibit offers the chance to step into the legal life of a Pope.