In Praise of Folly

In Praise of Folly Plot Summary

Introduction

In the tumultuous early 16th century, as Europe stood at the crossroads between medieval tradition and humanist innovation, one small book emerged to challenge the intellectual establishment of its day. This satirical masterpiece, penned in 1509 by a Dutch scholar while recovering from illness at his friend's home, would become both a bestseller and a lightning rod for controversy. Through the voice of Folly herself—personified as a witty, observant goddess—readers were invited to consider a revolutionary idea: that much of what society deemed "wise" was actually foolish, and what appeared "foolish" might contain the deepest wisdom. The brilliance of this work lies in its multilayered critique of Renaissance society. Through Folly's playful discourse, we witness a devastating examination of corrupt clergy, pedantic scholars, vain noblemen, and power-hungry rulers—all while maintaining plausible deniability through the clever literary device of speaking through the mouth of Folly herself. More profoundly, the text explores the paradoxical nature of Christian faith, arguing that true spiritual wisdom often appears as folly to the worldly-minded. This intellectual journey from lighthearted jest to profound theological insight makes the book accessible to casual readers seeking entertainment while offering scholars a complex meditation on human nature, institutional corruption, and spiritual authenticity that remains startlingly relevant five centuries later.

Chapter 1: Origins and Context: Erasmus in Tudor England (1509)

The story begins in the summer of 1509, when Desiderius Erasmus arrived in England after a disappointing sojourn in Italy. Suffering from kidney stones and awaiting his delayed luggage, the Dutch humanist found himself a guest in the London home of his dear friend Thomas More. To pass the time and distract himself from his ailment, Erasmus penned what he initially described as a mere jeu d'esprit—a playful exercise in wit. He claimed to have written it in just seven days, though the sophistication of the final text suggests more extensive revision before its publication in 1511. The historical backdrop to this literary creation was pivotal. Henry VIII had just ascended to the English throne, bringing youthful energy and renaissance ideals to court. Meanwhile, the Catholic Church under the warrior Pope Julius II was engaged in military campaigns to expand papal territories—actions that had deeply disillusioned Erasmus during his Italian travels. The corruption and worldliness Erasmus witnessed in Rome contrasted sharply with his vision of a Christianity based on the simple teachings of Christ and the early church fathers. Erasmus himself stood at a unique crossroads in European intellectual history. Trained in the scholastic tradition yet deeply influenced by Italian humanism, he had mastered both classical literature and biblical scholarship. His position between medieval and renaissance worldviews allowed him to critique both with penetrating insight. Unlike many contemporaries who rejected tradition entirely, Erasmus sought reform from within, believing that proper education in "the philosophy of Christ" could revitalize Christian society without revolutionary upheaval. The form Erasmus chose for his critique was significant: the classical mock encomium, a satirical praise of something unworthy. By putting his criticisms in the mouth of Folly herself, he created a brilliant rhetorical shield—when accused of irreverence, he could claim that Folly, not Erasmus, was speaking. This literary strategy allowed him to skewer the most powerful institutions of his day while maintaining plausible deniability. The work's title, "Moriae Encomium" in Latin, contained a playful pun on his friend's name (More/Moria), suggesting both "In Praise of Folly" and "In Praise of More." Despite Erasmus's later claims that he never intended publication, the work spread rapidly throughout Europe. Within his lifetime, it went through dozens of Latin editions and was translated into several vernacular languages, becoming one of the first international bestsellers of the print era. Its popularity testified to the widespread hunger for institutional critique and spiritual renewal that would soon fuel the Protestant Reformation—a movement with which Erasmus had a complex relationship, supporting many of its criticisms but rejecting its schismatic solution.

Chapter 2: Social Satire: Folly's Portrait of Human Vanity

Folly begins her discourse by presenting herself as the daughter of Wealth and Youth, nursed by Drunkenness and Ignorance—a clever genealogy that immediately establishes her as both the product of privilege and the enemy of wisdom. She proudly introduces her companions: Self-love, Flattery, Forgetfulness, Idleness, Pleasure, Madness, Sensuality, Revelry, and Sound Sleep. This colorful entourage represents the human tendencies that Erasmus observed dominating Renaissance society, particularly among the powerful and privileged classes. The satirical portrait gallery that follows reveals Erasmus's keen observation of social types across Europe. Folly systematically examines the vanities of every social rank, beginning with everyday fools: the self-important scholars obsessed with trivial distinctions, the superstitious commoners who believe saints will protect them from illness, the old men who dye their hair and chase young women, the hunters who make elaborate rituals of their sport, and the gamblers who squander fortunes. In each case, Folly celebrates how her influence brings happiness to these individuals, even as their behavior appears ridiculous to rational observers. When Folly turns her attention to the nobility and courtiers, her satire grows sharper. She depicts aristocrats who pride themselves on ancestral portraits while exhibiting none of their forebears' virtues, who value hunting and gambling above governance, and who surround themselves with flatterers rather than honest counselors. Court life itself becomes a theater of absurdity where "the most obsequious, servile, stupid, and worthless of creatures" compete for royal favor through elaborate displays of adulation. Kings themselves appear as overgrown children playing with "gold chains, precious stones, purple robes" and other toys while neglecting their actual responsibilities to their people. Particularly biting is Folly's portrayal of national vanities: the English pride in their good looks and fine dining, the Scots in their noble lineage, the French in their courtly manners, the Italians in their cultural refinement, the Spanish in their military prowess, and the Germans in their magical knowledge and impressive stature. Erasmus, who had traveled extensively throughout Europe, recognized how each nation's self-love blinded it to both its own flaws and others' virtues—a narrow nationalism that undermined the Christian humanist ideal of a unified European intellectual community. The brilliance of Erasmus's social satire lies in its psychological insight. He recognizes that human happiness often depends on self-deception—what he calls "living illusions." A man with an ugly wife is happier believing her beautiful; the poor scholar finds joy in his books though starving; the aging woman delights in imagining herself still young. As Folly remarks, "There's nothing to choose between the two conditions, or if there is, the fools are better off." This paradoxical wisdom—that folly often brings more happiness than wisdom—carries profound implications for Renaissance social hierarchies that claimed to be founded on rational principles. What makes this section of the work especially powerful is its universal applicability. While addressing specific Renaissance social types, Erasmus touches on timeless human foibles that readers in any era can recognize. The social climber, the pedant, the hypocrite, the narcissist—all appear in Folly's panorama of human vanity, holding up a mirror in which readers might uncomfortably glimpse themselves. This universality helps explain why the work remained popular long after the specific Renaissance contexts had faded from memory.

Chapter 3: Religious Critique: Challenging Scholastic Theology

When Folly turns her attention to religious matters, Erasmus's satire reaches its most controversial heights. He saves his sharpest barbs for the theologians, whom Folly describes as "a remarkably supercilious and touchy lot." These scholastic doctors, entrenched in the universities of Europe, had built elaborate systems of thought that Erasmus believed obscured rather than illuminated Christian truth. Their debates focused on absurdly specific questions: "What was the exact moment of divine generation? Are there several filiations in Christ? Could God have taken on the form of a woman, a devil, a donkey, a gourd, or a flintstone?" The fundamental problem, as Erasmus saw it, was that scholastic theology had become divorced from the lived experience of Christian faith. Theologians spent decades mastering Aristotelian logic and the complex commentaries of medieval thinkers like Duns Scotus and William of Ockham, yet many had never thoroughly read the Bible itself. They had developed a specialized vocabulary so technical that, in Folly's words, "the apostles themselves would need the help of another Holy Spirit if they were obliged to join issue on these topics with our new breed of theologian." This critique reflected Erasmus's own educational program, centered on what he called "the philosophy of Christ." He advocated a return to the original Greek and Hebrew biblical texts, supplemented by the writings of the early Church Fathers, particularly Jerome and Origen. Against the scholastics' complex disputations, he proposed a simpler Christianity focused on moral transformation through the imitation of Christ. Theological education, in his view, should prepare clergy to teach ordinary believers how to live virtuous lives, not equip them to win abstract intellectual contests. Erasmus extends his criticism beyond academic theology to the everyday religious practices of his time. Through Folly, he mocks those who "enjoy deluding themselves with imaginary pardons for their sins," who believe that certain prayers or ceremonies will automatically guarantee salvation, and who worship saints for protection from specific dangers rather than as models of holy living. In one memorable passage, he describes pilgrims who travel to Jerusalem, Rome, or Santiago de Compostela yet remain unchanged in character: "What is the point of leaving wife and children at home to visit Jerusalem, Rome, or St James's shrine, where you have no call to be?" While some readers misinterpreted Erasmus as rejecting external religious practices entirely, his actual position was more nuanced. He did not oppose ceremonies, sacraments, or devotions to saints in themselves but rather their superstitious misuse. The problem, as Folly explains, was that many Christians valued these externals more than internal transformation: "The ordinary man gives first place to wealth, the second to bodily comforts, and leaves the last to the soul—which anyway most people believe doesn't exist because it is invisible to the eye." The boldness of Erasmus's religious critique stemmed from his conviction that the Church urgently needed reform from within. Writing just a few years before Martin Luther would post his Ninety-Five Theses, Erasmus diagnosed many of the same corruptions that would fuel the Protestant Reformation. Yet unlike Luther, he believed these problems could be addressed through education, moral renewal, and institutional reform rather than schism. His strategy was to use humor to expose abuses that might have provoked persecution if stated directly—as he wrote to a critic, "Speech which has wit and charm has such power to please that we can enjoy a well-turned phrase even if it is aimed at ourselves."

Chapter 4: Pauline Wisdom: The Divine Nature of Holy Folly

In the most profound section of the work, Folly's tone shifts dramatically as she introduces a paradoxical concept: the divine folly of Christian faith. Drawing heavily on St. Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, she argues that Christianity itself appears as foolishness to worldly wisdom: "God's foolishness is wiser than men" and "God chose to save the world through folly since it could not be redeemed by wisdom." This startling inversion—that true wisdom may appear as folly to the world—forms the spiritual heart of Erasmus's message. Folly points to Christ himself as the supreme example of this divine foolishness. Though being "the wisdom of the Father," Christ became human, lived in poverty, associated with the lowly, embraced suffering, and died a shameful death on the cross. From a worldly perspective, these choices appear utterly foolish, yet they reveal God's redemptive plan for humanity. Erasmus draws a sharp contrast between Christ's simple teaching and the complicated systems constructed by theologians, suggesting that the truly wise approach to faith is childlike simplicity rather than intellectual sophistication. This theological perspective aligned with Erasmus's attraction to the devotio moderna ("modern devotion"), a spiritual movement that originated in his native Netherlands. This tradition, exemplified by Thomas à Kempis's "Imitation of Christ," emphasized personal piety, practical morality, and direct engagement with scripture. Against the academic theology of the universities, it offered an accessible spirituality centered on following Christ's example in daily life. Erasmus himself had been educated by the Brethren of the Common Life, who embodied this approach to Christian living. Folly proceeds to identify the "foolish" saints and apostles as those who most truly understood Christianity. They were "great lovers of simplicity and bitter enemies of learning" who "squander their possessions, ignore insults, submit to being cheated, make no distinction between friends and enemies, shun pleasure, sustain themselves on fasting, vigils, tears, toil, and humiliations, scorn life, and desire only death." This radical inversion of worldly values represents, for Erasmus, the authentic Christian life—one that appears absurd by conventional standards but embodies the transformative power of faith. The climax of this section describes the mystical experience of divine union, which Folly characterizes as a kind of blessed madness. Those rare individuals who achieve this state "experience something which is very like madness. They speak incoherently and unnaturally, utter sound without sense, and their faces suddenly change expression... they truly are quite beside themselves." This description draws on both Platonic concepts of divine ecstasy and Christian mystical traditions, suggesting that the highest spiritual state transcends rational comprehension. What makes this portion of the text particularly remarkable is its ambiguity. Is Erasmus himself endorsing this vision of Christianity as holy folly, or is he ironically undermining it by placing it in Folly's mouth? Most scholars believe he is sincere here, using the persona of Folly to express his deepest religious convictions while maintaining the satirical framework. The paradox becomes self-referential: just as Christian wisdom appears as folly to the world, so the most profound insights in the "Praise of Folly" come at the moment when the satirical mask seems to slip.

Chapter 5: Impact and Legacy: Humanist Reform vs. Reformation

The publication of the work in 1511 catapulted Erasmus to international fame, though its reception was decidedly mixed. While many readers delighted in its wit and insight, others—particularly those targeted by its satire—responded with outrage. University theologians, members of religious orders, and conservative church officials accused Erasmus of undermining respect for authority and encouraging heretical thinking. Some called for the book to be banned, while others demanded that Erasmus issue retractions or clarifications of his more controversial statements. Erasmus's relationship with the emerging Protestant Reformation proved especially complex. When Martin Luther posted his Ninety-Five Theses in 1517, many observers initially saw him as simply implementing the reforms Erasmus had advocated. Luther himself acknowledged his debt to Erasmus's biblical scholarship and critiques of ecclesiastical corruption. However, fundamental differences in temperament and theology soon emerged. Where Erasmus favored gradual reform through education and moral renewal, Luther demanded immediate, radical change. Erasmus's famous statement, "I laid the egg that Luther hatched," reflected his ambivalence about the revolutionary direction the Reformation took. As religious tensions intensified throughout Europe, Erasmus found himself in an increasingly uncomfortable middle position. Catholics suspected him of Lutheran sympathies, while Protestants criticized him for refusing to break with Rome. His emphasis on human free will led to a famous public dispute with Luther, who emphasized divine predestination. Erasmus's 1524 treatise "On Free Will" prompted Luther's harsh response "On the Bondage of the Will," effectively ending any possibility of collaboration between the two reformers. In this polarized climate, Erasmus's vision of a unified Christianity reformed from within seemed increasingly utopian. Despite these controversies—or perhaps because of them—the work exerted enormous influence on Renaissance culture. Its literary innovations helped establish satire as a powerful tool for social criticism in the vernacular literatures of Europe. François Rabelais, Miguel de Cervantes, and later Jonathan Swift all acknowledged their debt to Erasmus's satirical techniques. The book's commercial success also demonstrated the emerging power of print culture to spread ideas rapidly across national boundaries, creating what some scholars have called the first European "bestseller." In the visual arts, Hans Holbein the Younger created a famous series of illustrations for the 1515 edition that added another dimension to Erasmus's verbal wit. These marginal drawings, depicting Folly in various guises and scenarios, became inseparable from the text in many readers' minds and influenced subsequent artistic representations of folly and wisdom. The enduring motif of the "ship of fools" gained new currency through Erasmus's work, inspiring paintings, engravings, and literary adaptations throughout the sixteenth century. Perhaps most significantly, the work established a model for intellectual engagement that navigated between reverence for tradition and critical analysis of its failings. Erasmus demonstrated how one could remain loyal to an institution while working to reform it from within—a middle path that influenced subsequent generations of reformers in both religious and secular contexts. Though his specific vision of a unified, reformed Christianity did not materialize in his lifetime, his broader commitment to reasoned dialogue, textual scholarship, and moral renewal helped shape the humanist tradition that would transform European culture in the centuries to come.

Chapter 6: Defending the Work: The Letter to Dorp (1515)

Four years after the publication of the work, Erasmus composed what would become one of his most important defenses of it—a lengthy letter to Maarten van Dorp, a theologian at the University of Louvain. Dorp had written to Erasmus expressing concern about the work's seemingly irreverent treatment of theologians and religious practices. More significantly, he questioned Erasmus's plan to publish a revised Greek New Testament, arguing that the Latin Vulgate translation authorized by centuries of church use should not be challenged by a new edition based on Greek manuscripts. In his response, Erasmus carefully explained the intentions behind his satirical masterpiece. He insisted that it contained "nothing which could offend Christian piety in any way" and that he had deliberately avoided naming specific individuals in his criticisms. The work's apparent irreverence, he argued, was merely a rhetorical strategy borrowed from classical authors who understood that "jokes can be handled in such a way that any reader who is not altogether lacking in discernment can scent something far more rewarding in them than in the crabbed and specious arguments of some people we know." Erasmus further defended his approach by distinguishing between the essence of Christianity and its contemporary institutional expressions. Criticizing corrupt priests or misguided theologians, he maintained, was not the same as attacking the Church itself. Indeed, he presented his satire as a form of service to the Church, helping to purify it of abuses that undermined its spiritual mission. As evidence that his criticisms were justified, he pointed to the positive reception his work had received from numerous bishops, cardinals, and even Pope Leo X himself, who reportedly enjoyed the satire despite its mockery of ecclesiastical figures. The letter to Dorp also reveals Erasmus's deep commitment to textual scholarship as a foundation for religious reform. He forcefully defended his work on the Greek New Testament, arguing that access to the original text was essential for understanding Christian teaching. Against Dorp's conservative claim that the Vulgate's authority should not be questioned, Erasmus cited the examples of Jerome and Augustine, who had themselves consulted Greek sources to clarify biblical meanings. This philological approach to scripture—treating it as a text requiring historical and linguistic analysis—represented a fundamental challenge to medieval methods of interpretation. Most revealing is Erasmus's explanation of his ultimate purpose in both the satire and his biblical scholarship: to recover what he called "the philosophy of Christ" from beneath the accretions of medieval theology and practice. This simple, ethical Christianity, focused on the imitation of Christ rather than complex doctrinal formulations, represented for Erasmus the authentic core of the faith. By stripping away scholastic complications and superstitious practices, he hoped to make this essential message accessible to ordinary believers in a form that could transform both individual lives and society as a whole. The letter to Dorp has historical significance beyond its defense of the specific work. It articulates the broader humanist program of ad fontes—returning to the sources—that characterized Renaissance scholarship. By insisting on the importance of studying classical and biblical texts in their original languages, Erasmus helped establish philology as a foundation for both literary and theological studies. His assertion that "there's nothing so foolish as mistimed wisdom, and nothing less sensible than misplaced sense" encapsulates the humanist commitment to contextual understanding rather than abstract theorizing. Erasmus's exchange with Dorp also foreshadowed the more intense theological debates that would erupt with the Protestant Reformation. The tensions between tradition and reform, between institutional authority and individual interpretation, between Latin and vernacular expression—all these fault lines appear in this correspondence years before Luther's more dramatic challenge to church authority. In this sense, the letter to Dorp offers a window into the intellectual ferment of the early sixteenth century, when the Renaissance humanism Erasmus embodied was beginning to transform into the more radical religious movements that would reshape European Christianity.

Summary

Throughout this extraordinary work, Erasmus masterfully weaves together multiple strands of critique into a coherent vision of Renaissance society and its discontents. The central paradox—that what appears as wisdom to the world may actually be folly, and what seems foolish may contain the deepest wisdom—provides a powerful framework for examining everything from academic pedantry to ecclesiastical corruption. By placing these criticisms in the mouth of Folly herself, Erasmus created a literary device that allowed him to speak uncomfortable truths while maintaining plausible deniability, a strategy that proved essential in an era when direct criticism of powerful institutions could lead to persecution. The enduring relevance of Erasmus's insights speaks to their universal application beyond their Renaissance context. His critique of institutional self-interest disguised as principle, his skepticism toward those who complicate what should be simple, and his belief that true wisdom lies in recognizing our own limitations rather than claiming absolute knowledge—all these perspectives offer valuable guidance for navigating our own complex world. Perhaps most importantly, his example demonstrates how humor and satire can serve as effective tools for social criticism, allowing difficult truths to be communicated in ways that might be rejected if presented directly. In an age of increasing polarization and institutional calcification, Erasmus reminds us that sometimes the wisest path forward is to step back and recognize the element of folly in our most cherished certainties.

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Erasmus

Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus (28 October 1466 – 12 July 1536), known as Erasmus of Rotterdam, or simply Erasmus, was a Dutch Renaissance humanist, Catholic priest, social critic, teacher, and theologian.Erasmus was a classical scholar and wrote in a pure Latin style. Among humanists he enjoyed the sobriquet "Prince of the Humanists", and has been called "the crowning glory of the Christian humanists". Using humanist techniques for working on texts, he prepared important new Latin and Greek editions of the New Testament, which raised questions that would be influential in the Protestant Reformation and Catholic Counter-Reformation. He also wrote On Free Will, The Praise of Folly, Handbook of a Christian Knight, On Civility in Children, Copia: Foundations of the Abundant Style, Julius Exclusus, and many other works.Erasmus lived against the backdrop of the growing European religious Reformation, but while he was critical of the abuses within the Catholic Church and called for reform, he kept his distance from Luther and Melanchthon and continued to recognise the authority of the pope, emphasizing a middle way with a deep respect for traditional faith, piety and grace, rejecting Luther's emphasis on faith alone. Erasmus remained a member of the Roman Catholic Church all his life, remaining committed to reforming the Church and its clerics' abuses from within. He also held to the Catholic doctrine of free will, which some Reformers rejected in favor of the doctrine of predestination. His middle road approach disappointed and even angered scholars in both camps.Erasmus died suddenly in Basel in 1536 while preparing to return to Brabant, and was buried in the Basel Minster, the former cathedral of the city. A bronze statue of him was erected in his city of birth in 1622, replacing an earlier work in stone.

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