The real da Vinci code

A person equally skilled in painting, architecture, anatomy, sculpture, medicine, mathematics and botany sounds like a superman to our hyper-specialised age where we are ignorant of anything outside our narrow domain. Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) has been described as the only truly multifaceted genius in human history.  A true ‘Renaissance man’, he began life as an illegitimate son of a notary and died in a home gifted by a King. His Notebooks may not be as famous as his Mona Lisa, but it has its aficionados. The Notebooks consist of 13,000 pages of notes and drawings for engines, solar power, the human body and botany. Newer editions — one published as ‘The World’s Classics’ from Oxford University Press (1952) — make selections from these.

Da Vinci makes it clear in the section on ‘True Science’ that  though science may dominate human life, it must learn from nature. Nature is the subject of his long essay, ‘The Universe’ where he looks at the four natural powers: weight and force, movement and percussion. He proposed that the transmission of forces could be harnessed for mechanical purposes. Da Vinci then studied flight and swimming, and his model of a ‘flying machine’ may have been the very first of its kind.

Da Vinci did not abandon arts in favour of science. He discusses “the painter’s course of study” in which he formulates not only modes of perception but also proportion, light and shade, and instructions to painters on “how to represent a battle”, and paint abstract emotions. He offered illustrations on how to paint a man moving something heavy, where he cast artistry within physics and anatomy: “you should remember that a man’s weight drags in proportion as the centre of his gravity is distant from that of his support, and you must add to this the force exerted by his legs and bent spine as he straightens himself.” There are some lovely tales and fables too with surreal events and giants populating the landscape. The Notebooks, with their meticulous details and precise narrative, are extraordinary compositions.

Da Vinci’s philosophy stems from his reading of ancient writers (themes such as the incorruptibility of the soul), as do his moral prescriptions (“the man who does not restrain wantonness allies himself with beasts,” he declares). More than anything else, the Notebooks demonstrate an ancient truth: one can be interested in diverse things and successful at many. In an age of super-specialisation, they tell us of the infinite capacity of the human mind. Genius, the Notebooks demonstrate, will not be restrained by disciplines or professions. This is genius’ greatest marker, and perhaps it’s besetting sin.