when the speed of secularisation increased, Belgium was a profoundly Catholic country. For most Belgians,
the experience of illness and medical care was closely connected to
their (Catholic) faith. For many doctors and caregivers as well,
religion occupied an important position in the way they conducted
their professional lives. Recent historical analyses have gradually
come to acknowledge this relation
Sixteenth-century physicians were a major group among the rising class of urban professionals whose economic fortunes rested almost entirely on their academic training and their skills. But little is known so far about their financial situation and economic aspects of sixteenth-century medical practice. Michael Stolberg’s chapter will follow these issues by using the example of the German practitioner Hiob Finzel (c. 1526–89). Finzel, a town physician in Weimar and later in Zwickau, left three heavy folio volumes of his practice journal where he recorded for a period of almost twenty-five years more than 10,000 consultations and the fees his patients paid in return for his services. The practice journal, called Rationarium praxeos medicae, functioned foremost as an account-book, recording the fees paid by thousands of patients, but it also offers a wealth of information on Finzel’s diagnostic and therapeutic practices. At the end of each year, Finzel balanced the accounts to sum up his income and, at the same time, to justify his own work before God. Stolberg’s chapter provides a brief sketch of Finzel’s biography, describes the practice journal and the recorded payments in detail, and highlights the striking religious elements and connotations of Finzel’s Rationarium. Finally, Stolberg analyses the economics of Finzel’s practice and of the relative importance of the payments he received from patients of different social and economic status.
Dolto, psychoanalysis and Catholicism from Occupation to Liberation
(1936). 16 Like
the psychoanalyst-medics of L’Évolution Psychiatrique discussed in Chapter 1 , Dalbiez distinguished psychoanalytic therapeutic techniques,
which he considered valuable, from Freud’s theoretical standpoint which Dalbiez saw as
riddled with errors. 17 From 1935, Bruno
organised ‘study days’ in religious psychology. He encouraged psychoanalysts to
attend and to publish their ideas in Études carmélitaines , and even to
apply psychoanalytic insights to the psychology of religion itself.
rates were consequently higher in strongly Catholic areas. Among the upper classes,
religious families averaged 6.19 children, compared to 2.73 for non-believers. 11 In other words, while large families were
rare in French society overall, they were the expected norm in wealthy Catholic circles.
Despite Suzanne’s Protestant background, the Marettes identified as
Catholic – but in a way that indicates that, for them, religion, or rather being seen
to be religious, was first and foremost a social gambit. According to Dolto, her
degree programme in psychology, run by the
psychoanalyst Daniel Lagache; one of its first graduates, in 1949, was the future philosopher
Michel Foucault. 4
This was a promising situation for Dolto, who from the beginning of her
career had consistently sought to popularise psychoanalytic thinking and promote its use in
parenting, medicine, education, religion and wider public culture. Her public engagement took
numerous forms: magazine articles, press interviews, public lectures, books, radio and
social goals. The LAEPs
filled a real gap in provision for sociable spaces for young children and their
parents/carers; psychoanalysts were present in them, but their presence was not the main need
being met. Dolto’s radio broadcasts, similarly, responded to evident demand from
parents, children and the wider public for clear, empathetic advice in difficult situations,
in an era of social dislocation and during a decline of older (community- or religion-based)
channels of knowledge transmission. Dolto’s offer chimed with a
importance of individual environments is also thrown into sharp
relief. While the intended audience or readership must be considered, Crouch
provides a useful potential glimpse into outsiders’ views of the Principality, and
of the Welsh body, during this period.
WITHEY 9780719085468 PRINT.indd 41
Medical knowledge in early modern Wales
Religion and medical knowledge in Wales
Certainly one of the strongest contributory factors in concepts of health and
sickness in Wales was religion. God was a healer, but He also sent sickness as
punishment for sin
This edited volume offers the first comprehensive historical overview of the Belgian medical field in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Its chapters develop narratives that go beyond traditional representations of medicine in national overviews, which have focused mostly on state–profession interactions. Instead, the chapters bring more complex histories of health, care and citizenship. These new histories explore the relation between medicine and a variety of sociopolitical and cultural views and realities, treating themes such as gender, religion, disability, media, colonialism, education and social activism. The novelty of the book lies in its thorough attention to the (too often little studied) second half of the twentieth century and to the multiplicity of actors, places and media involved in the medical field. In assembling a variety of new scholarship, the book also makes a contribution to ‘decentring’ the European historiography of medicine by adding the perspective of a particular country – Belgium – to the literature.
Colonial Caring covers over a century of colonial nursing by nurses from a wide range of countries including: Denmark, Britain, USA, Holland and Italy; with the colonised countries including South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Ethiopia, Nigeria, India, Indonesia (Dutch East Indies) and the Danish West Indies. It presents unique perspectives from which to interrogate colonialism and post-colonialism including aspects of race, cultural difference and implications of warfare and politics upon nursing. Viewing nursing’s development under colonial and post-colonial rule reveals different faces of a profession that superficially may appear to be consistent and coherent, yet in reality is constantly reinventing itself. Considering such areas as transnational relationships, class, gender, race and politics, this book aims to present current work in progress within the field, to better understand the complex entanglements in nursing’s development as it was imagined and practised in local imperial, colonial and post-colonial contexts. Taking a chronologically-based structure, early chapters examine nursing in situations of conflict in the post-Crimean period from the Indian Rebellion to the Anglo-Boer War. Recruitment, professionalisation of nursing and of military nursing in particular, are therefore considered before moving deeper into the twentieth century reflecting upon later periods of colonialism in which religion and humanitarianism become more central. Drawing from a wide range of sources from official documents to diaries, memoirs and oral sources, and using a variety of methodologies including qualitative and quantitative approaches, the book represents ground-breaking work.
Accounting is about ‘how much’ and is usually assumed to be about money. It is viewed as a financial technology related to the administration of finances, costing, and the calculation of efficiency. But this book suggests a broader understanding of accounting, linking related perspectives and lines of research that have so far remained surprisingly unconnected: as a set of calculative practices and paper technologies that turn countable objects into manageable units, figures, and numbers that enable subsequent practices of reckoning, calculating, valuing, controlling, justifying, communicating, or researching and that generate and appear in account- or casebooks, ledgers, lists, or tables. And Accounting for Health involves both money and medicine and raises moral issues, given that making a living from medical treatment has ethical ramifications. Profiting from the ‘pain and suffering of other people’ was as problematic in 1500 as it is in today’s debates about the economisation of medicine and the admissibility of for-profit hospitals. In current debates about economisation of medicine, it is hardly noticed that some versions of these patterns and problems has been with health and medicine for centuries – not only in the modern sense of economic efficiency, but also in a traditional sense of good medical practice and medical accountability. Spanning a period of five centuries (1500–2011) and various institutional settings of countries in the Western world, Accounting for Health investigates how calculative practices have affected everyday medical knowing, how these practices changed over time, and what effects these changes have had on medicine and medical knowledge.