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EphelDuath
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NOTE: This thread is NOT going to be about the changes to the Mass and Breviary that happened at/after the Second Vatican Council. It is explicitly about some of the changes between Trent and right before VII.
I was reading this series of articles on New Liturgical Movement about changes to the Roman Breviary between 1529 and 1961, and I couldn’t help but notice that so many of the changes seemed very erratic and pointless. I don’t know if that’s just the author’s bias, but take this for example:

There is also this about the updated Psalter promulgated by Pope Pius XII which was translated from the Hebrew, instead of St. Jerome’s Gallican Psalter:

I was reading this series of articles on New Liturgical Movement about changes to the Roman Breviary between 1529 and 1961, and I couldn’t help but notice that so many of the changes seemed very erratic and pointless. I don’t know if that’s just the author’s bias, but take this for example:
By far the most significant change introduced by the 1960 reform is the reduction of all Sundays, and all feasts of the Third class, (the former Major Doubles, Doubles and Semidoubles) to three readings at Matins.
On more than one occasion, a question which was posed in the seventh reading of Matins, and answered in the eighth and ninth, is now left unanswered. On the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, the Gospel is that of the prince of Capharnaum, who asks Christ to come to his home and heal his son. (John 4, 46-53) In the homily of Matins, Saint Gregory the Great poses the question:
Why did he that had come to ask for healing for his son hear, “Unless you see signs and wonders, you do not believe?” For he that asked for healing for his son, beyond all doubt believed; nor would he have asked him to save his son, if he did not believe him to be the Savior. Why then is it said “Unless you see signs and wonders, you do not believe” (to him) who believed before he saw any signs?
The answer which Pope Gregory gives to this question is no longer read. On other occasions, what remains amounts to little more than a Father of the Church clearing his throat. On the fourth Sunday after Epiphany, Saint Jerome tells us:
There’s other examples of this. Pope Urban VIII edited the hymns of the Breviary to be more in line with classical (Ciceronian) Latin, which was widely described as a mutilation of the hymns and an awful change:He performed the fifth sign when, going on board the ship at Capernaum, he commanded the winds and the sea; the sixth when in the region of the Gerasenes he gave the demons power over the swine; the seventh when, entering his own city, when he cured the second paralytic in his bed. For the first paralytic was the Centurion’s servant.
Another example is on Pope St. Pius X’s revision to the schema for the Psalter:Since the days of Dom Guéranger, liturgical scholarship has been as unsparing in its criticism of the Urban VIII revision as the religious orders were unwelcoming of it. Msgr. Batiffol calls the new hymns “deformed”, likening them to the broken ancient statues discovered in Rome, which “the Barberini … and many others restored …, attaching to them new limbs which are a greater disfigurement to them than all the mutilations inflicted on them by the rude hand of time.” (p. 221) Fr. Adrian Fortescue is equally, characteristically severe. In the preface to a 1916 collection of Latin hymns and English translations by Alan G. McDougall, he writes (p. 27-28) “Whatever good the Renaissance may have done in other ways, there can be no question that it was…disastrous to Christian hymns. There came the time when no one could conceive anything but the classical meters and classical language. So they wrote frigid imitations of classical lyrics… There is nothing to be done with this stuff but to glance at it, shudder, and pass on. … (T)hose absurd Renaissance people did not realize that, because an original is beautiful, it does not follow that a bad imitation will be.” But not even Fr. Fortescue’s barbs can match the oft-quoted witticism of Pope Urban’s contemporaries, many of whom were less than impressed by the new hymns: “Accessit latinitas, recessit pietas. – Latinity came in, piety went out.”
It is now broadly agreed that the re-arrangement of Lauds is not altogether successful. Anton Baumstark once remarked, a propos of the breaking up of the Laudate psalms (148-149-150), that the reformers had removed from the Breviary the one custom which we can say with certainty was observed by Our Lord Himself when He prayed in the synagogue.
There is also this about the updated Psalter promulgated by Pope Pius XII which was translated from the Hebrew, instead of St. Jerome’s Gallican Psalter:
Can anybody tell me about this? Reading these articles has really made me want to just forget about learning the 1961 Breviary and try to find some ancient copy from 1568 to pray insteadThe goal of this translation is clarity, and it is certainly very easy to understand for those who know Latin reasonably well. It is also difficult to think of a more artless and insipid piece of writing in the history of the Roman Rite. The translation may gain much in a certain kind of accuracy, but it loses far more in poetry and rhythm. The classic case is found in Psalm 92, 3: “Elevaverunt flumina, Domine, elevaverunt flumina vocem suam; elevaverunt flumina fluctus suos. – The rivers have lifted up, o Lord, the rivers have lifted up their voice, the rivers have lifted up their waves.” The Bea Psalter reads “Extollunt flumina, Domine, extollunt flumina vocem suam; extollunt flumina fragorem suum. – The rivers raise up, o Lord, the rivers raise up their voice, the rivers raise up their noise (or ‘crash’). ” Regardless of whether the Hebrew is better represented by the new version, the Vulgate simply sounds much better, in this and nearly every other case.