The meditation of the dove with all its layers of significance
and signs was practiced to develop perspective. By contemplating the dove and
its properties, a human can find the traces of God in His own creation, and the
human can perceive beyond the visible qualities of life to the invisible and
sublime. Interpreting creation through animals allows the human to interpret
creation through himself, for the dove is a mirror to the human. Hugh of
Fouilloy outlines the three kinds of doves in Scripture and how they each
exemplify a unique method to cease from sin. To follow the dove of Noah, you
much cease from sin. To follow the dove of David, you must do battle against
sin. To follow the dove of Jesus Christ, you must seek salvation.[1]
The meditation of the dove will lead to instruction and then action for the
human who practices contemplation.
The dove is
a mirror to the human who searches for the invisible trace of God in nature and
for instruction for devout life. The human can identify with the dove, can take
on its characteristics in order to sincerely practice their love for God. The
dove can also become a mirror for the Church and the community. “The silvered
dove is the Church,” and its physical shape holds the source of spirituality.[2]
This was
the atmosphere of the medieval world. As Dutton writes, “…the early Middle Ages
seemed awash with divine power.”[3]
Doves and other kinds of birds, beasts, and even the smallest insects were both
manifestations of God’s creation and agents of His will. But animal metaphors
were also used for courtly life, and instead of careful contemplation of
nature, human would identify themselves and others through stock
characteristics and behaviors of animals.
Dutton implies
that Charlemagne’s own court was a mock menagerie in which his courtiers and
companions carried animal nicknames and communicated in animal code.[4] Charlemagne
himself was referred to as the lion because of the animal’s role as king of beasts.[5]
This association was determined by the nature and characteristics of the
animals in the same way Hugh determined the signs of the dove by its
properties. However, when the animal mirror is applied to the superficial
personality of an individual as opposed to trace of God left in a creature from
its creation, does the metaphor hold its significance?
Charlemagne
identified with the lion as a king, but he also knew himself to be the king of
humans and beasts. He played his kingly role by collecting exotic animals in
his forests to show the extent of his control over the natural world.[6]
Significantly, he collected a variety of birds of paradise such as peacocks,
doves, and swans, and their presence in his menagerie were not ornamental. As a
lion, as a king, Charlemagne needed to display his control over a harmonious
and civilized paradise that housed birds and beasts. Using the characteristics
of the animals, Charlemagne could metaphorically and literary mirror his superiority.
But does the recognition of animal properties within the self translate to the
same kind of immersive introspective Hugh of Fouilloy was trying to stimulate
through his dove?
In some
ways I am quick to say no to my own question. It seems silly that Charlemagne’s
political strategy involving animal metaphors and peacocks could be made
similar to the deeply spiritual meditation conducted by Hugh’s dove. Yet, as
Dutton reminds his readers, the Middle Ages were deeply spiritual and deeply
animal. In a longer format I would tease out Charlemagne’s identification with
animals, especially the lion and the birds of paradise in his garden. Dutton
wants to suggest that the king’s plan for his animals was also meant to
associate him with Adam as he collected the creatures in Eden and gave them
names.[7]
Perhaps this is the entrance to the comparison between the dove and the courtly
menagerie.
What
persists, though, is the emphasis on the qualities of the animal that will lead
to the central, invisible qualities of its creation. Medieval humans, I will
argue, were not insistent on the animal’s appearance or physical accuracy. Although
Hugh does spend a lot of time discussing the dove’s colors and form, his
descriptions are not accurate for a realistic bird found in wildlife, even if Hugh
does claim to have seen a golden dove. I believe the medieval observer was most
aware of an animal’s behavior as it compared to his own. In this way he could
more easily construct a metaphorical comparison and determine its place in the
divine plan. As Ohly details in his article, the purpose of the looking at the
dove for Hugh and others was to transcend the visible qualities and to perceive
its invisible characteristics: “It leads from the foundations of the sense
structure to its vault, from the earthly to the heavenly. Its essence is not
foreshortening, but extension to the sublime. It does not relativize by means
of an earthly view but is directed to the absolute and makes what has been
created transparent vis-à-vis the eternal.”[8] According
to this interpretation, the people of the medieval age care more about
interpreting the invisible nature of the animal than analyzing its physical
properties. While the properties of an animal are important to obtain perspective,
the goal is to mirror the dove’s behavior as a vessel of God’s creation and
support to Scripture.
Therefore,
the strange depictions of animals in medieval artwork, even those animals that
were available for direct observation, have one version of explanation. I argue
that medieval artists were too busy trying to capture the introspective trace
of God to feel the need to paint realistically or accurately. They were
creating images of the animals according to their nature, not always according
to how they looked in nature.
"But does the recognition of animal properties within the self translate to the same kind of immersive introspective Hugh of Fouilloy was trying to stimulate through his dove?" This is an excellent question, bringing full circle our question about what animals meant in medieval people's interactions with them. If, as Dutton and Ohly argue, medieval Christians looked to animals as symbols and traces of the creative activity of the divine, what did this mean for their interactions and identifications with real animals? Did Charlemagne think of himself as taking on the properties of the lion, or did he see himself as king already possessing them? You suggest: "As a lion, as a king, Charlemagne needed to display his control over a harmonious and civilized paradise that housed birds and beasts." I am intrigued by the idea of a "civilized paradise" of animals--we tend to think of animals as wild, but here they appear as embodiments of order, when ruled over by their proper king. Truly a different "perspective" from the one which we are accustomed to use! RLFB
ReplyDeleteI agree with your conclusion that the medieval artists “were creating images of the animals according to their nature, not always according to how they looked in nature,” and I think it needs to be further emphasized that the concept of an animal’s “nature” was much deeper than its external visual qualities and observed behavior. Animals, and particularly the dove, were loaded with symbolism and inherently allegorical. As we discussed during the first few weeks of class, animals were not simply created by god to exist in their own right. Rather, each one was meant to instruct humans on how or how not to behave as a proper Christian. Therefore the essence of the animal was not necessarily contained in its bodily form, but also in its inherent meaning. Even the etymology of its name was considered to show something essential about the animal. To truly understand an animal, one could not simply look at it.
ReplyDeleteIllustrators, particularly religious ones like those who painted these doves, of animals, though not scientific by our modern standards, was meant precisely to show animals as they actually were, not just as they seemed to be.
-Woody