Playing God: Testing, Modeling, and Imitating Blood Miracles in Eighteenth-Century Europe.

In the late Middle Ages, rumors began to spread throughout Europe regarding blood miracles associated with the relics of martyrs. Centuries-old blood, pulverized or solidified and black in color, was said to return to its original bright red color, or else to liquefy or bubble under certain circumstances or on certain dates in the liturgical calendar. With the Reformation, in Protestant countries most of these relics were either destroyed or forgotten. In Catholic countries, on the contrary, blood miracles multiplied, reaching a peak between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. This article reconstructs the debate that sprang up in eighteenth-century Europe over the blood of Saint Januarius and the attempts made to disprove its miraculous properties, often not in written works, but by staging highly theatrical demonstrations. It examines the way in which, with phenomena as complex as miracles, the activities of testing alleged facts, creating elucidative models, and staging imitations intertwined over the centuries, often overlapping and becoming confused.

Thinking with the saint: the miracle of Saint Januarius of Naples and science in early modern Europe.

The aim of this paper is to reconstruct the way in which early modem science questioned and indirectly influenced (while being in its turn influenced by) the conceptualization of the liquefaction of the blood of Saint Januarius, a phenomenon that has been taking place at regular intervals in Naples since the late Middle Ages. In the seventeenth century, a debate arose that divided Europe between supporters of a theory of divine intervention and believers in the occult properties of the blood. These two theoretical options reflected two different perspectives on the relationship between the natural and the supernatural. While in the seventeenth century, the emphasis was placed on the predictable periodicity of the miraculous event of liquefaction as a manifestation of God in his role as a divine regulator, in the eighteenth century the event came to be described as capricious and unpredictable, in an attempt to differentiate miracles from the workings of nature, which were deemed to be normative. The miracle of the blood of Saint Januarius thus provides a window through which we can catch a glimpse of how the natural order was perceived in early modern Europe at a time when the Continent was culturally fragmented into north and south, Protestantism and Catholicism, learned and ignorant.

The woman who gave birth to a dog Monstrosity and bestiality in Quaestiones Medico-Legales by Paolo Zacchia.

The Italian Paolo Zacchia (1584-1659) is considered one of the fathers of forensic medicine. From a letter sent by the physician and botanist Pietro Castelli, the article seeks to reconstruct the opinions that Zacchia expressed about monsters in his monumental Quaestiones Medico-Legales. Although he did not seem too sure about the possibility that a hybrid could be born from the union of a man and a beast, he believed that God intervened, allowing the birth so that the abomination could be discovered. The opinion of Zacchia is related to the image that people had at the time of the relationship between humans and animals.

From the laboratory to the factory, by way of the countryside: Fifty years of Italian scientific cinema (1908-1958).

The history of the Italian scientific documentary is not very well known nor, with the exception of the pioneer efforts in cinema, is it contemplated in the more complete studies of the evolution of the genre. This article aims to outline the ground covered by Italian scientific cinema in the first 50 years of its existence, from the pioneering works by Roberto Omegna to the industrial documentaries of the 1950s.

The importance of being Florentine: a journey around the world for wax anatomical Venuses.

This article reconstructs the 19th century history of events regarding a few female wax anatomical models made in Florence. More or less faithful copies of those housed in Florence's Museum of Physics and Natural History, these models were destined for display in temporary exhibitions. In their travels through Europe and the United States, they transformed the expression "Florentine Venus" into a sort of brand name used to label and offer respectability to pieces of widely varying quality.