Mr. Peiresc, Meet FaceBook! by Jane Tolbert

I stumbled across an interesting gentleman more than 20 years ago, attracted by his vision of the new science and collections of curiosities. During his lifetime, he worked in Aix-en-Provence, but he valued retreats to his family home in the country at Belgentier. Nicolas-Claude Fabri de Peiresc, a French magistrate and scientist, devoted hours each day to social networking, using both personal contacts and correspondence.

Although he frequented the movers and shakers and luminaries of the time, he also consulted artisans. His correspondents, scattered throughout Europe and the Levant, provided data (observations of a lunar eclipse for work on a method of terrestrial longitude), reports (natural history, culture, religion, philology) or artifacts and curiosities (talismans, crates of hooded chameleons from Tunisia, an Egyptian mummy and ancient Roman coins or manuscripts).

On a given day, this inquisitive polyglot could churn out as many as ten letters--some of which were 3500 words long with sections resembling the materials and methods of a lab report today. Needless to say, these letters were written in a painful scrawl and included marginal notations (Thomas D’Arcos said he was not circumcised). His letters also provided an amalgam of personal health (his hemorrhoids were acting up), weather conditions, politics (he preferred living in the South of France, at a distance from Paris with its scandals and machinations), recipes (the salubrious benefits of small melons or flamingo tongues), gossip and opinions about women.

Peiresc described himself a type of “midwife” in helping projects reach fruition. He promised rewards to those who participated in scientific ventures, most often tedious and time consuming.

He came to the defense of friends. He asked Cardinal Barberini to lighten up on Galileo or arranged ransom payments for a Barbary captive. He stressed the importance of tolerance at a time when science clashed with religious beliefs and the threat of the Inquisition loomed.

Even though Peiresc generously rewarded his correspondents, many did not reciprocate. When he requested telescopic observations, they used the naked eye or copied data from existing tables. The main point of the new science was the use of observation and inquiry to correct past errors and misconceptions. He sent lengthy missives, awaited responses and experienced mail delays caused by pestilence, pirate raids or wars and adverse meteorological conditions. Then some correspondents just disappeared from the radar.

Would FaceBook have alleviated Mr. Peiresc’s woes? He would scrupulously complete the sections of his profile, interests, hobbies and activities. His 500 or more friends would include cardinals, politicians, Copernicans, Aristotelians, renegades and freethinkers. He would send frequent “news feeds”-- “OMG Mass lasted too long. Missed transit .” “Thx for the orange trees .” He would “poke” his contacts and write on their “walls” (“Send data ASAP”) or read postings of others to learn who got “wasted” or feigned illness instead of collecting data. He would upload drawings of the gazelle, Alzaron, engraving of the lunar topography or videos of his dissections. He would be tagged in numerous photos.




Given the period in which he lived (1580-1637), Mr. Peiresc left an impressive legacy—notebooks of observations and a plethora of letters. What more could he have done with FaceBook, SMS and IM! Involved “friends of friends”? Sent reminders on Twitter? Or recognized that many collaborators then as now preferred trivial pursuits (ummm, slept late; shopped hard) to scientific investigations?
Photos: Belgentier
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For more information on Peiresc, visit this site: www.lesamisdepeiresc.fr