Niklaus von Flüe is a controversial figure. At the age of fifty, the Swiss farmer, husband, and father of five children traded the domesticity of a farmstead for the frugality of a hermitage. But, while choosing the life of a hermit, he was far from being an anchorite. Inhabiting a cell a stone's throw away from his family home, he served as a spiritual advisor for a great number of people visiting him daily (Roland Gröbli, 31). He engaged in the social and political debates of his time, functioning as a policy advisor. Niklaus was of great interest for both confessions during the Reformation and served as an icon against modernism and liberalism during the Kulturkampf of the nineteenth century. Right-wing politicians also used him against the accession of Switzerland to the League of Nations in 1920 (Hannes Steiner, 323); at the same time he was a symbol of peace and reconciliation (Urs Altermatt). To do justice to this highly complex figure, Mystiker, Mittler, Mensch gathers a number of essays by diverse authors—political scientists, historians, Catholic, Protestant, and Islamic theologians, and artists and writers. The book is thus of interest for a broad audience. Rather than pursuing a single line of argument, it enables its readers to gain an awareness of the interconnectedness of historical, cultural, and political developments, and to engage in a critical dialogue with the Swiss patron saint.

Roland Gröbli succeeds in providing a detailed yet concise introduction followed by a number of essays investigating and scrutinizing the political and diplomatic (Thomas Wallimann-Sasaki, Cornelio Sommaruga) and the theological and ethical (Klara Obermüller, Pirmin Meier) heritage of Niklaus. Subsequently, the book tackles the influence of the saint in historic and current debates on music and art. Angelo Garovi explores the fascinating interconfessional history of Switzerland by highlighting the artistic demarcation and mutual influences of a chorale attributed to Niklaus von Flüe that was rediscovered in Bologna in 1932. Silvia Henke Dean offers an interesting insight into the work of the video artist Judith Albert, who managed to grasp the controversial saint by using rosaries and medallions for her video installation, provoking a debate on religious utility art (“religiöse Gebrauchskunst,” 265) and Christian devotional practices.

In addition, the book challenges the reader's view of medieval society regarding the role of women and the notion of gender. Thus, the life of Dorothee Wyss, Niklaus's wife, plays an important role in a number of essays (Klara Obermüller, Christian Petit, Christina Sasaki). The authors stress that she released Niklaus from his duties as a father and husband, and that it was also Dorothee who wove the cloth for his habit (Gabriela Lischer), both key elements on his path to becoming a hermit and, eventually, a saint. Nicolaj van der Meulen and Jörg Wiesel see the garb as an act of communal work between Klaus and Dorothee that exceeds traditional gender patterns (268). Most interesting in this respect is the interview by Gröbli with Maria-Baptista Kloetzli, the only female hermit in Tschütschi of the parish Schwyz. Furthermore, the anthology gives an informative insight into church politics, institutional power structures (Josef Mayer), and canonization practices (Daniel Sidler). The book also tackles the debate on celibacy (Stefan Hartmann), an issue widely discussed outside and within the Catholic Church recently, and a subject of great interest for the Amazon Synod in the fall of 2019.

The large number of short articles (more than sixty) is the volume's strength, but it is also its weakness. Due to the brevity of the papers, the reader will not find detailed analyses of topics that deserve more elaborate thought—e.g., the interconfessional approach to an Abecedarium (Cod. 277, Stiftsbibliothek Einsiedeln) by Urban Federer. The essay by Markus Ries, which provides the reader with a deeper understanding of the fifteenth-century policy of peace that was essential to the diplomatic work of Brother Klaus, deserves more attention as well. However, the authors’ reflections on Niklaus von Flüe, his life, spirituality, and his diplomatic influence prepare the ground for further research. The book is a much-needed and timely intervention that sets an example for interdisciplinary approaches to history and religion in an increasingly diverse society.