The Birth of Homeopathy Out of the Spirit of Romanticism by Alice A. Kuzniar

This book, written by a University of Waterloo Research Chair (2017) and Professor in Germanic and Slavic Studies, is a detailed examination of the philosophy of health and homeopathy during the historical period of European Romanticism. Kuzniar's broad and definitive knowledge of this period of history and the works of its main representatives allows her to place Hahnemann's invention of homeopathy within the cultural, medical, and linguistic framework of its day. She shows how three laws of homeopathy are based and connected with scientific and cultural patterns and discourses of the time, taking into account the works of contemporary novelists, philosophers, scientists, and physicians. Dr. Kuzniar suggests that the culture in the period around 1800 influenced homeopathy and vice versa. She comments: “Hahnemann influenced poets of the time like Annette von Droste-Hülshoff, the most famous German poetess of the 19th century…For over a decade she sought out a homeopath, and her poetry reflected that precise recording of phenomena. The intense self-observation demanded by homeopathy was brought to bear on her poetry.”

Laws? That is how she refers to the three essential principles of homeopathy, each being covered in separate chapters: “The Law of Similars,” “The Law of the Single Remedy,” and “The Law of Minimum.”

This book consists of 150 pages of text in five chapters with the remaining 70 pages devoted to extensive notes, and a good index and bibliography. Each of those chapters could have been indicated with their subchapters in the table of contents. For example, “Singularities: Disease, Patient, Cure,” “Individuality and Gemut,” “The Authenticity of Experience: Hahnemann's Self-Testings,” and “The Genius of Self-Poisoning” are subchapter names in Chapter 2, “The Law of the Single Remedy.”

This is a book of dense scholarly material whose stated goal/s is to “…look at synchronistic movements occurring at the time of its founding to which it invites comparisons. Why does homeopathy arise at the time it does? What discursive shifts contribute to its birth and development? Are there earlier models of medicine that paved the way for homeopathy, etc.? The aim of this book is to provide a specific historical framework for educated persons who would browse the homeopathic section in a pharmacy or organic food store and wonder about the little pills, regardless of whether they would buy them, or whether they decide to seek out a homeopath” (p. 5). The author continues, on page 6: “I hope to demonstrate, homeopathy is a cultural product of its era, it follows that the same cultural prerequisites will never be in place as they were in Hahnemann's -not 50, not 100, not 200 years later. In short, the practice of homeopathy could not be invented today….”

Kuzniar sees herself as an intellectual historian, and states that she has no expertise to comment on the efficacy of homeopathy. Yet, Kuzniar remains fascinated by the practice. She spent a great deal of research time in the archives of homeopathy at The Institute for the History of Medicine in Stuttgart, Germany. She states, “An archive allows you to appreciate how important historical and cultural origins are” and “If you don't know why homeopathy came into existence in the first place, I think you are left with a lot of questions about the practice that are still being asked today.” Homeopathy is a phenomenon rooted in its time. She illustrates this thesis in her work by examining the founding principles (laws as she calls them) of the practice and their parallels with the cultural zeitgeist of late 18th-century Germany, the time of early German Romanticism. Indeed, this work is the first publication in the English language that makes a rigorous, scholarly investigation of the cultural context of homeopathy and of Hahnemann.

Do her intended goals succeed? Perhaps it does if you have the persistence to plow through the dense text and possess a knowledge of that period of history. Otherwise, be content to know that, Romanticism aside, Hahnemann was a singular person with a singular vision who did not waver in his pursuit of truth—truth as it pertains to health. To her credit, she does extensively quote and interpret several of Hahnemann's works.

Although it is apparent that the author knows and is well acquainted with the subject of Romanticism, she is not necessarily so with homeopathy. It does make me wonder if she ever took a day or two to sit with a classical homeopath to really grasp what goes on in the anamnesis (there is nothing to indicate that she had; by the way, nowhere does the name Harris Coulter, PhD, appear). She does state that she is neutral on whether homeopathy does or does not work, yet this reviewer wonders just how neutral she is. Nonetheless, her scholarship is insightful and impeccable.

Besides her prose, which, as I have just mentioned, is burdensome, her lengthy paragraphs and lack of attention to adequate text leading tend to bog the reader down. Many of those lengthy paragraphs could be considered as side-talk. Perhaps these aspects are different in the hardback edition; I reviewed the paperback. In any case, good presentation is essential in all aspects of life—vestis virum facit (clothes make the man).

For a sample of her writing style and paragraph length, try the following from the subchapter “The Genius of Self-Poisoning” (p. 100):

"Put differently, given his view of the radical miscellany of disease, Hahnemann had to devise a counter-hegemonic explanatory system of illness and cure. And what better way to introduce rigour than to theorize the very inconsistency of facts as well as the fact of irreconcilability. In typically witty fashion, Friedrich Schlegel wrote in the Athenaeum-Fragmente of 1786: “For the mind it is equally deadly to have a system and to not have a system. It will probably need to decide to bring both together” (Kritische Ausgabe 2: 173, #53). Two years before, Novalis similarly advocated that philosophy, to be free and unending, convert asystematicity [sic] into a system (2: 200, #648).

And, indeed, the Jena Romantics devoted themselves to articulating a consistent theory of asystematicity (sic). Their literary project moved away from a poetics based on strict genres to one where each text was unique and demanded individual interpretation. There was no standardized, generic way of reading. The genres that come to the fore in Romanticism are thus non-prescriptive. One could even call them non-genres -the fragment, the essay, and the mixed genre of the novel with its embedded fairy tales and digressions. Novalis and Friedrich Schlegel, in particular, theorized extensively about the Romantic fragment. It was to allude (hindeuten) without offering up definitive interpretation (Deutung) and revelled in surface, extraneous, or marginal observations. It hid more than it revealed and intentionally lacked context and cohesiveness. Moreover, each fragment was, like an individual, complete unto itself, as Schlegel famously put it, like a hedgehog curled up into itself and separated from the surrounding world (Kritische Ausgabe 2: 197, #206). Returning to homeopathy, then, in its theory, every individual is unique. In praxis, this anti-system worked to let Hahnemann record the symptoms of each patient as distinct, inimitable, and utterly fragmentary. Hahnemann then systematically collected these fragments, as much as Novalis voluminously did, for instance, in Das Allgemeine Brouillon (The Universal Notebook) of 1798–9. The goal of Novalis's unfinished Romantic encyclopedic project was, in fact, a strikingly similar one: the juxtaposition of fragmentary knowledge from different science and sources was to allow for the discerning of analogies and connections (p. 100)."

If you are a lover of the Romantic period of history, this book should surely please.

If you are a lover of complex, long-winded intellectual prose, again, this book should please.

If you are a lover of endless examples of academically oriented material that attempt to prove that homeopathy was chiefly a product of the philosophy of the day, that time period in which it developed, again, you will be satiated.

But to be truthful, this book is not written for anyone less than an academic, so understand that if you are not the intended audience do not expect to come away with but a few noteworthy nuggets.

The book could also have benefited from brief summary sections for each chapter or at least from an additional “Summary” chapter.

Homeopathy was founded in 1796 at a period when German Romanticism was a part of art, literature, religions, philosophy, and science. “The reason homeopathy gained popularity,” says Kuzniar, “was because Hahnemann was using ideas that were current and widely embraced.” Perhaps I am mistaken, but I do not think there is a solid enough connection, as the author and others assert, to seriously weave homeopathy into the tapestry of Romanticism. Yet I am sure many from outside our community will disagree. So be it.

Do I recommend this work from a gifted scholar? Reservedly, I do, but be forewarned, this volume will best be served when taken in small doses, which is an aspect all good homeopaths are aware of.

Kuzniar AA. The Birth of Homeopathy Out of the Spirit of Romanticism. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press; 2017. 223 pages. Quality paperback: ISBN 978-1-4875-2126-4; US$39. Cloth: ISBN 978-1-4875-0117-4; US$79. Dimensions: 6” × 9”. Available at: www.utpublishing.com.

Publication History

Article published online:
03 December 2024