How Good is Google’s Latin-to-English Translator?

GOOGLE translation has gotten much better over the last 15 years, thanks to continued improvement in its algorithms.  How good is its Latin-to-English translation now?  Judge for yourself.  Here’s a famous passage from St. Augustine’s Confessions in Latin, a human English translation, and Google’s automatic translation.

Sero te amavi, pulchritudo tam antiqua et tam nova, sero te amavi! et ecce intus eras et ego foris, et ibi te quaerebam, et in ista formosa, quae fecisti, deformis inruebam. mecum eras, et tecum non eram. ea me tenebant longe a te, quae si in te non essent, non essent. vocasti et clamasti et rupisti surditatem meam: coruscasti, splenduisti et fugasti caecitatem meam: fragrasti, et duxi spiritum, et anhelo tibi, gustavi et esurio et sitio, tetigisti me, et exarsi in pacem tuam. (Augustine of Hippo, Confessions 10.27.38).

Too late did I love You, O Fairness, so ancient, and yet so new! Too late did I love You! For behold, You were within, and I without, and there did I seek You; I, unlovely, rushed heedlessly among the things of beauty You made. You were with me, but I was not with You. Those things kept me far from You, which, unless they were in You, were not. You called, and cried aloud, and forced open my deafness. You gleamed and shine, and chase away my blindness. You exhaled odours, and I drew in my breath and do pant after You. I tasted, and do hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I burned for Your peace. (Expert translation)

I loved You late, Beauty so old and so new, I loved You late! and behold, You were inside and I was outside, and I was looking for You there; and I, deformed, was rushing into those beautiful things that You made. You were with me, and I was not with You. They kept me far from You, which, if they were not in You, would not be. You called and cried and broke my deafness; You flashed, shone and drove away my blindness; You broke, and I drew breath, and I longed for You, I tasted and hungered and thirsted, You touched me, and I burned for Your peace. (Google translation)

I only needed to change one or two words in the Google translation. While it may lack the stylistic touches a human translators can supply, it does seem sufficient to convey the main ideas — and, besides, there’ s something to be said for literal translation.

Thus it appears that a huge volume of untranslated Latin works — which include over half the contents of Mignes Patrologia Latina — are can now be read and studied in English.

I’ll follow up this post with an actual example: to translate into English for the first time part of the interesting medieval treatise titled, De septem septenis (On the Seven Sevens).

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The Seven Vices and Fifty Subvices of Medieval Christianity

Tree of Vices” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 25v

AS  a previous post on the Seven Virtues and Fifty Subvirtues of Medieval Christianity is one of the most oft-visited here, it seems fitting to supply a sequel on vices and subvices.  Joint diagrams of virtues and vices are found in many medieval manuscripts.  The closest we have to a text source is De fructus carnis et spirits, a work of the 11th century, today tentatively attributed to Conrad of Hirsau  (c. 1070 – c .1150) and previously to Hugh of St. Victor (c. 1096 –1141).

An important patristic source for the medieval diagrams is Gregory the Great’s Moralia in Job, 31.xlv.87−88. Spencer (2014, 177 f.; cf. Straw, 2005, 38 f.) lists the vices/subvices as found both in Gregory and Cassian. Medieval tree diagrams are fairly consistent concerning the vices, but variation exists in subvices (these vary in number from 48 to 52; again we’ll just say roughly 50).

Just as the virtues and subvirtues are rooted in Humility, the vices and subvirtues derive from a common parent, Pride (superbia).

We should not look at these vices and subvices as mere historical curiosities.  They have modern relevance at the level of practical cognitive psychology: each corresponds to a significant form of negative thinking common to us all,  which we need to overcome.  There is considerable interest in the application of ancient Stoic virtue ethics to modern life.  The patristic and medieval literature on the virtues and vices is an extension (and arguably more refined version) of Stoic moral psychology and ought to interest us at least as much.

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I. VAINGLORY (vana gloria)

1. Hipocrisy (hypocrisis)
2. Disobedience (inobedientia)
3. Boasting (lactantia)
4. Presumption (praesumptionis)
5. Arrogance (arrogantia)
6. Talkativeness (loquacitas)
7. Obstinacy (pertinacia)

II. ENVY (invidia)

1. Hatred (odium)
2. Envying others’ good fortune (afflictio in prosperis)
3. Exulting in others’ adversity (exsultatio in adversis)
4. Malice (malitia)
5. Detraction (detractio)
6. Bitterness (amaritudo)
7. ‘Whispering’ (susurratio); “by which, either by a hiss of hateful flattery or contempt, one is roused to the hatred of the other.”

II. ANGER (ira)

1. Accusation (clamor)
2. Blasphemy (blasphemia)
3. Insult (contumelia)
4. Mourning or dwelling on an injury by another (luctus)
5. Reckless outburst (temeritas)
6. Fury (furor)
7. Indignation (indignatio)

IV. SADNESS (tristitia)

1. Despair (desperatio)
2. Rancor (rancor)
3. Mental torpor (torpor)
4. Fear and anxiety (timor; menti fluctuans angustia)
5. Acidie (acidia)
6. Complaint (querela)
7. Pessimism (pusillanimitas)

V. AVARICE (avaritia)

1. Love of money (philargyria)
2. Perjury (perjurium)
3. Violence (violentia)
4. Usury (usura)
5. Fraud (fraus)
6. Robbery (rapina)
7. Deceit (fallacia)

VI. GLUTTONY (Ventris ingluvies)

1. Drunkenness (ebrietas)
2. Overeating (crapula)
3. Dulness of sense and in understanding (mentis hebetatio)
4. Laziness (languor)
5. Delicacy of appetite; desire for delicious foods beyond one natural needs (delicatio)
6. Disregard of health (oblivio)

VII. LUST (Luxuria)

1. Voluptuous pleasure (voluptas)
2. Lewdness (lascivia)
3. Languid rejection of virtue (ignavia)
4. Rash, consuming desire (petulantia)
5. Weakness of spirit or body given over to indulgence (titubatio)
6. Enticement (blanditiae)
7. Excessive sensual delight (deliciae)

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Bibliography

Bliss, James and anonymous (trs.). St. Gregory the Great: Morals on the Book of Job. Three vols. Library of the Fathers. Oxford, 1844−1850. Book 31.

Bloomfield, Morton. The Seven Deadly Sins: An Introduction to the History of a Religious Concept, with Special Reference to Medieval English Literature. East Lansing, 1952; repr. 1967.

Goggin, Cheryl Gohdes. Copying manuscript illuminations: The Trees of Vices and Virtues. Visual Resources, 2004, 20:2-3, 179−198. https://doi.org/10.1080/0197376042000207552

Hugo de S. Victore (attr.). De fructibus carnis et spiritus. J. P. Migne. Patrologia Latina, Paris, 1854; cols. 997−1010 (rough diagrams of the Tree of Vices and Tree of Virtues appear at the end of the work).  Latin text is online: http://mlat.uzh.ch/?c=2&w=HuDeSVi.DeFrCaE

Katzenellenbogen, Adolf. Allegories of the Virtues and Vices in Medieval Art from Christian Times to the Thirteenth Century. Alan J. P. Crick (tr.). London: Warburg Institute, 1939.

Kerns, Brian (tr.). Gregory the Great: Moral Reflections on the Book of Job. Six vols. Liturgical Press, 2014−2022. (English translation of Latin critical edition.)

Mews, Constant J. (ed.). Listen, Daughter: The “Speculum virginum” and the Formation of Religious Women in the Middle Ages. The New Middle Ages Series. Palgrave, 2001.

Newhauser, Richard G. In the Garden of Evil: The Vices and Culture in the Middle Ages. Toronto, 2005.

Robertson, D. W. The Doctrine of Charity in Mediaeval Literary Gardens: A Topical Approach through Symbolism and Allegory. Speculum, vol. 26, no. 1, 1951, pp. 24–49. Reprinted in: Robertson, Durant Waite. Essays in Medieval Culture. Princeton University Press, 1980 (repr. 2014); pp. 21−50.

Powell, Morgan. Gender, Reading, and Truth in the Twelfth Century: The Woman in the Mirror. Arc Humanities Press, 2020.

Straw, Carole E. Gregory and Cassian on the cardinal vices. In: Richard G. Newhauser (ed.), In the Garden of Evil: The Vices and Culture in the Middle Ages, Toronto, 2005, pp. 35−58.

Tucker, Shawn R. The Virtues and Vices in the Arts: A Sourcebook. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2015.

Young, Spencer E. Scholarly Community at the Early University of Paris: Theologians, Education and Society, 1215–1248. Cambridge University Press, 2014; Ch. 5, Parisian theologians and the seven deadly sins. (pp. 168−207).

Watson, Arthur. The Speculum Virginum with special reference to the Tree of Jesse. Speculum, vol. 3, no. 4, 1928, pp. 445–69.

Wenzel, Siegfried. The Seven Deadly Sins. Speculum 43, 1968, 1−22.

Art: “Tree of Vices” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 25v; early 13th century manuscript from the Cistercian abbey of Himmerode, Germany.

Active Imagination and the Mysteries of the Rosary

Artist unkown: The Annunciation

LET’S continue the topic of experimenting with meditation on the Rosary Mysteries as tools for personal growth — spiritual, psychological and philosophical. To repeat in brief what I’ve said before, the guiding premise is that the ‘author’ of the Rosary Mysteries is the collective unconscious. They represent a cumulative attempt, crafted and refined by countless inspired individuals, to express in symbolic form stages or components of ones spiritual self-realization.  They are therefore of universal value.  One need not be a practicing Roman Catholic to benefit from them.  They concern universal and (what a follower of Jungian psychology would call) archetypal principles of the human psyche.

There is a standard formula by which Roman Catholics consider these mysteries while praying the Rosary.  However one is entirely free to experiment and improvise, and there are advantages with this. In particular, one might apply the Jungian technique of active imagination to this task — for example, by looking at artistic portrayals of these Gospel events — and creatively ‘engaging’ with them.  Almost the whole point of active imagination is spontaneity.  Nevertheless, another element of Jungian psychology can be used profitably here, namely his well-known distinction between four kinds of cognitive activity: sensing, thinking, feeling and intuiting.  (These of course are the four personality dimension of the Meyers-Briggs inventory).

Elsewhere I’ve related what was explained to me by a retreat director years ago — how these four cognitive activities can be used in connection with the traditional practice of lectio divina (holy reading) for interpreting Scripture. As understanding the complex messages of art is much like interpreting Scripture, it’s plausible to apply this approach to the former.

Accordingly, this works as follows.  Quiet your mind, and arrange time to devote to studying some work of art that portrays one of the Sorrowful, Joyful, Glorious or Luminous Rosary Mysteries.  In succession, spend some amount of time considering it exclusively by each cognitive function:

Sensing.  Examine the literal details without analyzing them.  Notice every important object and detail.  Scan the entire image so nothing is missed.  Notice shapes, colors, shadings, arrangement of figures, foreground and background, etc.

Thinking.  Now think about the objects in the painting.  Don’t force things or be overly analytical; in fact, more of a playful approach might be most appropriate.  For example, applying this process to interpret Scripture, one technique is to make puns or find alternative, varied meanings — however implausible — in the actual words.  Something similar might be done here.  The idea is not to form any definite conclusions, but rather to activate and exercise the rational faculty.

Feeling.  Here again, one should feel free to experiment. How does the art make you feel? One possibility is to cycle through the characters portrayed, and to imagine what that figure is feeling towards each of the others — or try to have the same feeling yourself.

Intuiting. Pause, take a breath, close your eyes.  Put yourself in the loving ‘shalom’ of God’s presence.  Now open your eyes and let the picture speak to you.  Imagine, if you like, it speaking directly to your heart, without specific words, giving intuitions and insights.

This is enough to say.  Of necessity this should be a completely personal method, and each person will need to discover what works best for them.  I would just encourage you to make the experiment.  Regardless of ones religious affiliation, these Mysteries and their associated art are a great cultural resource available to help your process of self-realization.

As for the picture above, I don’t know it’s source, but it is a rather unusual representation of the Annunciation.  What I like about it is that it –somewhat uniquely — focuses on Mary experiencing an ecstasy.  As such, it can be interpreted as an allegory for deep religious contemplation — as, perhaps, do the other Joyful Mysteries (and Sorrowful, Glorious and Luminous Mysteries).

 

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The Thirty Seraphic Virtues of the Middle Ages

British Library, MS Arundel 83-1, The Howard Psalter, fol. 5v, ca. 1310–20; for other versions of the figure, see here.

THE short work, On the Six Wings of the Cherubim (De sex alis cherubim) enjoyed great popularity in monastic communities during the 12th and 13th centuries. Its authorship is a little confusing. The first part seems to be an edited excerpt from Hugh of St. Victor’s (c. 1096−1141) work, On the Moral Ark of Noah (De arca Noe morali). The second part is by an anonymous author. An earlier attribution of the entire work to Alan of Lille (d. 1203) is incorrect. Marie-Therese d’Alverny (1980) suggested the Cistercian, Clement of Llanthony, as a possible source, but this is highly speculative.

The second part is what interests us. It discusses not cherubim, but the six wings of the seraphim in Isaiah 6:2. Each wing corresponds to a higher-order virtue, and each wing has five feathers, corresponding to specific virtues. The aim is to summarize in a simple form the life of Christian perfection. The work is interesting in its own right, but also in that it set the stage, so to speak, for major philosophical and devotional works by Richard of St. Victor (d. 1173; The Mystical Ark or Benjamin Major) and St. Bonaventure (1221–1274; The Soul’s Journey into God), both of whom use the image of a six winged seraphim as a vehicle of examining contemplative ascent to God.

Many medieval manuscripts of On the Six Wings include annotated diagrams of the six-winged angel. Sometimes the figure appears without the accompanying text. In the latter case, artists varied considerably in the virtues named.

A summary of the wings and feathers from On the Six Wings is supplied below. Readers are referred to the English translations of Bridget Balint and of Steven Chase.  The Latin text is found Migne PL 210:267A−280C.

CONFESSION (confessio)

Mournful avowal of one’s own weakness, ignorance, and malice

1. Truth (veritas); sincerity of confession.
2. Wholeness (integritas); a confession should be complete, not shortened or divided
3. Steadfastness (furmitas); a confession should be steadfast and firm
4. Humility (humilitas); a person making confession should have a humble mind, humble tongue, and humble aspect
5. Simplicity (simplicitas); one should reproach ones weakness, ignorance, and wickedness, defending nothing, excusing nothing, minimizing nothing.

REPARATION (satisfaccio)

1. Renunciation of sin (peccati abrenuntiatio)
2. Outpouring of tears (lacrymarum effusio)
3. Mortification of the flesh (carnis maceratio)
4. Almsgiving (eleemosynarum largiti)
5. Devotion of prayer (orationis devotio)

III. PURIFICATION OF THE FLESH (munditia or purita carnis)

1. Modesty of gaze (visus pudicitia); shuts out wantonness, lest the eye look desiring on another person
2. Chastity of hearing (auditus castimonia); do not listen to an insulting voice, words of those who curse and blaspheme, false accusations, lies or provocations
3. Decorousness of scent (olfactus modestia); seeks the aroma of goodness by works of mercy.
4. Temperance in eating (gustus temperantia)
5. Sanctity of touch (tactus sanctimonia)

PURITY OF MIND (puritas mentis)

1. Decorous and proper emotion (affectus sinceri rectitudo)
2. Delight of the mind in the Lord (mentis in Domino delectati); Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. (Psalm 37:4); contemplation engenders and shapes this feather.
3. Pure and well-ordered thought (munda etordinata cogitatio)
4. Holiness of will (voluntatis sanctitudo)
5. Sound and pure intention (simplex et pura intentio)

LOVE OF NEIGHBOR (dilectio proximi)

1. Avoid injury to others by word or deed (nulli nocere verbo vel opere)
2. Do good in every word and deed (omnibus prodesse, verbo et opere)
3. Liberality (verae liberalitatis fortitudine); be magnanimous and generous, not niggardly.
4. Lay aside soul for brethren (animam profratre ponere); Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (John 15: 13)
5. Persevere in fraternal love (in his perseverare)

LOVE OF GOD (dilectio Dei)

1. Long for and strive after nothing other than God (aliud quam Deum non concupiscit)
2. Distributes this love actively among brothers, sisters, and the world for the sake of God (propter Deum sua distribuit)
3. Reserve nothing for themselves but relinquish all things in God’s name (propter Deum nihil sibi reservat,sed omnia relinquit)
4. Deny self for God alone (propter Deum se ipsum abnegat)
5. Persevere in love of God (in his perseverat)

Readings

Anonymous. De sex alis cherubim. Attr. Alan of Lille. PL 210:265A−280C. Paris: J. P. Migne, 1855. Latin text.

Balint, Bridget (tr.). The Seraph’s Six Wings. In: Mary Carruthers and Jan M. Ziolkowski, The Medieval Craft of Memory, University of Pennsylvania, 2002, pp. 83−102.

Carruthers, Mary J. Ars oblivionalis, ars inveniendi: the cherub figure and the arts of memory. Gesta, vol. 48, no. 2, 2009, pp. 99–117.

Carruthers, Mary J. Clan Carruthers — clan crest — seraph or cherub. Clan Carruthers International website. 27 May 2020.

Chase, Steven (tr.). De sex alis cherubim (On the Six Wings of the Cherubim). In: Steven Chase (ed.), Angelic Spirituality: Medieval Perspectives on the Ways of Angels, Paulist Press, 2002; pp. 121−145.

Cousins, Ewert H. (ed.). Bonaventure: The Soul’s Journey into God. Paulist Press, 1978.

d’Alverny, M-T. Alain de Lille: problèmes d’attribution. In: eds. H. Roussel and F. Suard, Alain de Lille, Gautier de Châtillon, Jakemart Giélée et leur temps, Lille, 1980, pp. 27–46.

Zinn, Grover A. (ed.). Richard of St. Victor: The Twelve Patriarchs, The Mystical Ark and Book Three of The Trinity. Paulist Press, 1979.

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Myths of the Fall

Polyphemus, Babel, Satan, Deluge, Eden, Pharaoh, Tyranny, Phaeton, Icarus  

M

YTHS  of the Fall of Man ought to interest us intensely, because it’s so obvious that human beings, individually and collectively, live mainly in a markedly fallen condition.  Individually this is manifest as the various forms of negative thinking that characterize much or most of our waking consciousness: anxiety, worry, greed, anger, hated, fear, confusion, distraction, delusion, folly, envy, resentment, fantasy, daydreaming, grandiosity, obsession, etc. Examples of collective chronic psychological and social dysfunction are just as many and obvious.

Yet the academic establishment has gotten virtually nowhere trying to understand what myths of the fall are trying to tell us about what the psychological fall is, why it happens and how to prevent it.

Concerning the opposite condition – the blessed or ascended state – there are also many valuable and important myths.  Indeed, we might be easily persuaded that the natural condition of the human mind is happy, blessed, active and extremely capable.

In the Western tradition we have three parallel sources of fall myths:  Greek mythology, Plato’s dialogues and the Old Testament.  Examples:

Greek: Pandora, Ages of Man, Deucalion, Phaeton, Narcissus, Odyssey (Lotus eaters, Cyclops, Circe, Scylla & Charybdis), Icarus; Judgment of Paris; cf. Choice of Hercules.

Plato: Cave allegory, Cronos myth (Statesman), Tyrant’s progress, Atlantis; cf. Chariot myth.

Old Testament: Garden of Eden, Cain & Abel, Deluge, Tower of Babel, Sodom and Gomorrah, Pharaoh’s army

Plato’s ethics and epistemology supply a clear framework for interpreting his myths, and, by extension, related Greek myths.  Philo of Alexandria, in turn effectively applies Platonic formulae to interpret the Old Testament myths of the fall.

The Platonic interpretation of myths of the fall has a long tradition, and is arguably more relevant than modern Jungian interpretations, which downplay the ethical and religious meanings.

To be clear, my conviction is that these myths are not mere historical recollections of ancient deluges or a cultural transition from a happy primitive hunter-gatherer society.  They are humanity’s attempt to understand that most significant fact of human psychology: that we spend the bulk of our lives in a dreadful fallen state, virtually asleep, a ‘life that is not life.’   Until we solve this problem, we won’t be able to see or think clearly enough to solve our social problems.

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References

Uebersax, John.  The monomyth of fall and salvation.  Christian Platonism website. 2014.

Uebersax, John. Plato’s Myths as Psychology.  2015.
www.john-uebersax.com/plato/myths/myths.htm

 

Martianus Capella, The Apotheosis of Philologia

Sandro Botticelli, Venus and the Three Graces Presenting Gifts to a Young Woman, 1483–1486.

BOOK II of Martianus Capella’s On the Marriage of Philology and Mercury (De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii) continues the mythical introduction to the work (the previous post discusses Book I).  Before she can marry Mercury, Philologia (love of study) must ascend to heaven.  In preparation for this she is greeted and praised by a succession of goddesses and other divinities, including Phronesis (her mother), the Seven Muses, Philosophy, the Graces, the Virtues, Immortality, and Astrae. The speeches of the Muses, especially noteworthy, are presented below.

Modern writers criticize Martianus for what they call his ‘turgid prose’ and elaborate descriptions.  But this is seeing him through the lens of narrow rationalism.  May we instead adopt a post-rationalist worldview, and accept that he is either (1) using art intentionally to convey a fuller message, or (2) that he just might be inspired, whether by some divine power, the collective unconscious, or both?  May we in the 21st century regain an appreciation for the prophetic sense?

In Book III Martianus himself addresses his critics:

[221] Once again in this little book the Muse prepares her ornaments and wants to tell fabricated stories at first, remembering that utility cannot clothe the naked truth; she regards it as a weakness of the poet to make straightforward and undisguised statements, and she brings a light touch to literary style and adds beauty to a page that is already heavily colored. (Stahl et al, p. 64).

Criticisms notwithstanding, the purpose of the myth in the first two books seems as explicitly religious as it is momentous: Martianus is suggesting that Philologia — this quality of love of study, of scholarship, of yearning to understand the meanings of things — is something divine.  And it seems likely he considers this a means of gradual ascent of the mind (nous) in a manner consistent with Platonism and Neoplatonism.

Small wonder, then, that this work exerted such a profound influence on education and consciousness in the West for 1000 years after he wrote, from the fall of  the Roman Empire to the Renaissance.  His message should be heard again today.  The purpose of Liberal Arts education is neither utilitarian, nor merely to make a ‘good and productive citizen.’  It is part of the far more significant process of divinization, of ‘assimilation to God insofar as possible.’

Two details concerning the following should be noted.  First, the Seven Muses are not the same as the Seven Liberal Arts, which are treated in the remaining seven books.  Second, Martianus deviates somewhat from how other writers interpret each Muse.  The English translation of Stahl et al. has been lightly edited.

[117] BEFORE the door, sweet music with manifold charms was raised, the chorus of assembled Muses singing in well-trained harmony to honor the marriage ceremony. Flutes, lyres, the grand swell of the water organ blended in tuneful song and with a melodious ending as they became silent for an appropriate interval of unaccompanied singing by the Muses. Then the entire chorus with melodious voices and sweet harmony outstripped the beauty of all the instrumental music, and the following words were poured forth in notes of sacred song:

“Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[118] Then, while the others kept quiet a moment, URANIA (Muse of astronomy) began:

“With trust in the divine will and without disputing,
Behold the assemblies of the stars,
And the sacred vaults of the heavens;
You formerly studied what cause whirled the interdependent spheres,
Now as their leader you shall assign causes to their sweeping motions.
You shall perceive what is the fabric that connects their circuits,
What bond encompasses them,
And what huge spheres are enclosed within a curving orbit;
You will see what drives on and what delays courses of the planets,
Which rays of the sun inflame the moon or diminish its light,
What substance kindles the stars in heaven,
And how great are the bodies which heaven spins around,
What is the providence of the gods, and what its mode of operation.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[119] Then sang CALLIOPE (Muse of epic poetry):

“Always a friend to the favoring Muses,
For you Magnesian rivers and the fountain of Pegasus have poured your drink,
For you the Aonid peak [Mount Helicon], green with garlands, puts forth its leaves, while Cirrha prepares violets;
You know how to chant prophecies to the sweet Muses,
And to play the lyre of Pindar,
And at your word the strings and the sacred plectrum,
Know how to pour forth the Thracian song.
Light of our lives, praise always our sacred songs,
And approve the music that we play.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks uou to rise to the lofty stars.”

[120] Thus sang POLYMNIA (Muse of rhythm and poetic meter):

“You have been exalted and, though recently of mortal blood,
Are now endowed with godhead;
At last you reap the rewards of your efforts:
The shining sky, the abodes of the gods, and the companionship of Jove.
You are used to combining and dispersing a variety of sounds,
According to the rules of rhythm,
To assessing then which syllable, marked with the macron,
Is pronounced with circumflexion,
Which with the mark of brevity the micron curves;
To assessing melodies and tones and tunes and all such knowledge,
And all that can, when the mind is urged to it,
Gain the heights of heaven.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[121] Thus sang MELPOMEME (Muse of sacred theater):

“You are accustomed to sing tragic songs for the theater,
Or wear the boot of comedy and echo the songs,
Which under your care we offered when sweet music aided us;
Now to you, maiden, our champion and our expositor,
Made immortal by the theme of your song, to you I sing.
For I am happy to adorn your bridal chamber,
And may my garlands be acceptable in your service.
May you ever seem worthy of an Olympian wedding,
Ever fairer than the other gods.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupitet asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[122] Thus sang CLIO (Muse of history and rhetoric):

“You sound forth in the guise of the rhetorician,
And set free by your passion the man accused.
You link together contrary sentiments,
Building up sophisms by heaping together arguments,
Now binding something together by the rule of grammar,
Clever at using your gift of fine speech,
To play with words that by their double meaning destroy the ordinary sense;
Now gaze upon the starry threshold of the sky,
And enjoy the holy whiteness of heaven,
For it is precious to see that in its true light.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[123] Next spoke ERATO (Muse of lyric and love poetry):

“O famous maiden, to whom the palace of the Thunderer is open,
Source of the arts, rightly is the world subject to you,
Since it was from the beginning apprehended by your rational principles.
Why the sacred lightning flashes,
Whence the echoing thunder sounds,
What drives the moisture through the opening of the sky when the storm clouds gather,
What is brought back by the clearness of spring when the rain clouds march away,
Why the circle of the year spins round to end all the hurrying centuries
—we avow that secrets unknown to others are known to you alone.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[124] Then sang TERPSICHORE (Muse of dance and chorus):

“I am delighted, dear maiden, that through this honor you gain a sight of the stars!
Your industry and the genius of your nature have won this for you.
That wakeful concentration of yours bestowed this honor on your lucubrations.
Having toiled day and night on the sacred writings,
And knowing the future and being ready to learn,
You have understood what the Stoics offer in their sacrifices when the flame puffs from the kindling.
For without misgivings, with unhesitating utterance,
You anticipate what the smoke tells on the flaming altars of the Sabaeans,
What message is brought by air thick with the ash of incense,
Or what the sure signs foretell by prophetic voices.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[125] Then EUTERPE (Muse of flute music) began:

“O maiden, our guide to skillful prophecy,
Who could ascend to heaven and bring down to pure souls,
The sacred teachings by which they were able to know themselves,
And by which they discerned
And saw with a clear light the decrees of fate and the countenances of the spirits,
And who allotted stars to be the minds of Plato and Pythagoras,
And who has ordered ephemeral creatures,
To behold the decree of heaven with all obscurity removed:
Rightly ascend to the senate of the Thunderer,
You who alone are fit to be married to Mercury.

Ascend into the temples of heaven, maiden, deserving of such a marriage;
your father-in-law Jupiter asks you to rise to the lofty stars.”

[126] Then THALIA (Muse of comedy and pastoral poetry) spoke:

“O blessed maiden, who take up the marriage bond,
Amid such a singing of the stars,
And with such approval from the universe,
Become a daughter-in-law of the Thunderer.
Of which god are you to become the wife?
He alone on wandering wing, alert for sudden storms,
Flies out beyond the stars of the universe,
And when he has crossed the straits on high, returns to Tartarus.
He alone is able to wield his famous staff before the chariot and white horses of the high father;
He alone gladly restores the fortunes of Osiris as he falls,
Whom the father of the gods knows to be weighed down by the life-giving seed he has discovered;
To Mercury his stepmother gladly gave her milky breast;
His powerful caduceus counteracts dread poison;
And when he speaks, all venom is dissolved.
He is learned among the gods; but this girl is still more learned.
Now, now the arts are blessed, which you two so sanctify,
That they allow men to rise to heaven and open to them the stars,
And allow holy prayers to fly up to the clear sky.
Through you the mind’s intelligence, alert and noble, fills the uttermost depth,
Through you proven eloquence brings everlasting glory.
You bless all subjects, and you bless us, the Muses.”

Bibliography

Cristante, Lucio; Lenaz, Luciano. Martiani Capellae: De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii. Vol. 1, Libri I – II. Bibliotheca Weidmanniana, 15.1. Hildesheim: Weidmann, 2011.

Stahl, William Harris; Johnson, Richard; Burge, E. L. The Marriage of Philology and Mercury. Columbia University Press, 1977.

Willis, James (ed.). Martianus Capella: De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii libri IX. Leipzig: Teubner, 1983. (Critical edition of Latin text.)

1st draft, 1 Apr 2020

The Archetypal Meaning of Hercules at the Crossroads

Annibale Carracci, The Choice of Hercules (1596)

THE ATHENIAN philosopher and rhetorician, Prodicus, a contemporary of Socrates, wrote an essay commonly known as Hercules at the Crossroads, which he often delivered orally to appreciative crowds. A moral allegory of deep psychological significance, it describes a young Hercules at a crossroads confronted by two women who personify Vice and Virtue.  Each appeals to him to take a different route: Lady Vice claims the easy path will lead to pleasure and happiness; Lady Virtue reminds him that the road to true and lasting satisfaction is the harder and more toilsome route.

Our best source of the story is Xenophon’s dialogue Memorabilia (2.1.21–34), wherein Socrates is presented as relating Prodicus’ story to a young protege named Aristippus (evidently not the eponymous founder of the Cyrenaic philosophical sect).

Thanks to Xenophon, the story was well known and often alluded to throughout antiquity and beyond. Philo of Alexandria (fl. ca. 20 AD), the Jewish Middle Platonist philosopher (and, as it happens, the virtual father of Christian allegorical interpretation of the Bible), expanded on Prodicus’ theme in a discussion of the ‘two wives of the soul’ (On the Sacrifices of Cain and Abel 1.5.21−34).  Philo’s treatment is quite interesting in its own right, in part because of his remarkable list (section 1.5.31) of over 150 negative adjectives to describe a votary of Pleasure.  Readers of Philo will recognize the connection of the story with his allegorical interpretation of the Garden of Eden myth.

Centuries later, St. Ambrose of Milan (fl. 390 AD), in Cain and Abel 4.13−5.15, paraphrased Philo’s discussion and connected it with the ‘strange woman‘ (Uebersax, 2009) in the Book of Proverbs (Prv 2:16−19; 5:3−8; 5:15−19; 5:20; 6:24−26; 7:5−27; 9:13−18; 20:16; 22:14; 23:27−35; 27:13, 15), a personification of pleasure and/or folly, and opponent of the virtuous ‘wife of thy youth.’ (Prv 5:15−19).

Cicero, in On Moral Duties (1.32.118; 3.5.25), a work addressed to his son, mentions Prodicus’ tale in the context of choosing ones career.  Others, too, have understood the tale as referring choosing one’s long term course in life.  However we have good reason to believe the story has a deeper psychological and more existential meaning. One clue to the deeper meaning is the strong appeal of the story throughout the centuries to the artistic imagination.  As Erwin Panovsky (1930) in a seminal work on art history describes, Prodicus story elicited scores of paintings and drawings beginning in the Renaissance.

Another clue to a deeper meaning is to see how this same theme is expressed in many variations throughout antiquity.  The earliest and best known example in the Greek tradition is Hesiod’s Works and Days 1.287−294.

Wickedness (κακότητα; kakotes) can be had in abundance easily: smooth is the road and very nigh she dwells. But in front of virtue (ἀρετῆς; arete) the gods immortal have put sweat: long and steep is the path to her and rough at first; but when you reach the top, then at length the road is easy, hard though it was.
Source: Hesiod, Works and Days 1.287−294 (tr. Evelyn-White)

This passage serves as a virtual epitome of book 1 of Works and Days, which also contains the Pandora and Ages of Man myths, both allegories of the moral fall.

The Judgment of Paris

Sandro Botticelli, Judgment of Paris (c. 1488)

In Greek mythology, a similar trope is found in the Judgment of Paris, where Paris (prince of Troy and brother of Hector) must choose which goddess is more beautiful: Athena, Hera or Aphrodite — allegorically symbolizing Wisdom, domestic virtue, and sensory pleasure, respectively.  His choice of Aphrodite over Athena and Hera led to the Trojan War.  If we understand the Trojan War as allegorically symbolizing the principle of psychomachia, or conflict between virtuous and unvirtuous elements of the human psyche, then the Judgment of Paris may be understood as symbolizing a depth-psychological dynamic that precipitates a fundamental form of  inner conflict.

Plato cites the above passage of Hesiod in two of his works (Republic 2.364d  and Laws 4.718e−719a). Moreover, in two underworld myths presented in his dialogues (Republic 10.614c−d and Gorgias 524a−527a), he describes a parting of two paths — one associated virtue and leading to the Isles of the Blest, and one associated with vice and leading to punishment in Tartarus. If we understand the underworld as symbolizing depth-psychological processes, it suggests that Plato is saying that orienting our mind wrongly leads to internal self-inflicted punishments, the ultimate aim of which is to educated and reform us (Gorgias 525b−c).

The Pythagorean Y

The same trope of a parting of the ways in an underworld journey is found in Book 6 of Virgil’s Aeneid (Smith, 2000).  Further, an epigram attributed (probably incorrectly, but perhaps written within a century of Virgil’s death) describes what is commonly called the Pythagorean Y (so-named because of the resemblance of ‘Y’ to a forking path):

This letter of Pythagoras, that bears
This fork’d distinction, to conceit prefers
The form man’s life bears. Virtue’s hard way takes
Upon the right hand path, which entry makes
(To sensual eyes) with difficult affair ;
But when ye once have climb’d the highest stair,
The beauty and the sweetness it contains,
Give rest and comfort, far past all your pains.’
The broadway in a bravery paints ye forth,
(In th’ entry) softness, and much shade of worth;
But when ye reach the top, the taken ones
It headlong hurls down, torn at sharpest stones.
He then, whom virtues love, shall victor crown
Of hardest fortunes, praise wins and renown:
But he that sloth and fruitless luxury
Pursues, and doth with foolish wariness fly
Opposed pains (that all best acts befall).
Lives poor and vile, and dies despised of all.
(tr. George Chapman)

Like Hercules at the Crossroads, the Pythagorean Y inspired many Renaissance works of art.

The theme of two paths associated with a choice or judgment concerning virtue vs. wickedness occurs throughout the Old and New Testament.  Perhaps best known is Psalm 1 (traditionally called The Two Paths).

When we find the same theme like this so prominently expressed across many times and traditions, it implies some universal, archetypal psychological dynamic of fundamental significance. That, I believe, is the case here. This is not a simple, prosaic morality tale such that “one must choose good and not evil.” Rather it confronts us with the existential fact — readily verifiable by introspection and close attention to thoughts — that we are always, every moment at our lives, faced with the two paths:  we can direct the immediate energies of our mind towards seeking physical pleasure, or to virtue, spirituality and higher cognitive activity.  When we choose the latter, all is well. Our mind is a harmony.  This is the path of life. But the moment we stop actively choosing virtue, our mind lapses into its immature state dominated by the pleasure principle; we are no longer true to our genuine nature, and a cascading sequence of negative mental events ensues.

This is not unlike the Freudian distinction between the pleasure principle and the reality principle, which, according to him, it is the principal task of the ego to broker.  However in this case, the reality principle is replaced by what we might call the virtue principle:  that our psyche is, in its core, fundamentally aligned with virtue.  In a sense this is still a reality principle — but, here the reality is that our nature seeks virtue.

To choose the path of virtue, wisdom and righteousness on an ongoing basis is not easy. It is, rather, as Plato calls it, the contest of contests (Gorgias 526e) and requires a degree of resolve and effort we may perhaps rightly call Herculean.

❧

Bibliography

Colson, F. H.; Whitaker, G. H. (trs.). Philo: On the Sacrifices of Abel and Cain. In: Philo, Volume 2. Loeb Classical Library L227. Harvard University Press, 1929.

Evelyn-White, Hugh G. (tr.). Hesiod: Works and Days. In: Hesiod, Homeric Hymns and Homerica. Loeb Classical Library L057. Harvard University Press, 1943.

Marchant, E. C. Xenophon: Memorabilia and Oeconomicus. Harvard University Press, 1923. http://data.perseus.org/texts/urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0032.tlg002.perseus-eng1

Miller, Walter (tr.). Cicero: De Officiis. Loeb Classical Library L030. Harvard University Press, 1913. https://archive.org/details/deofficiiswithen00ciceuoft

Panofsky, Erwin. Hercules am Scheidewege und andere antike Bildstoffi in der neueren Kunst, Studien der Bibliothek Warburg 18, Leipzig, 1930.

Rochette, Bruno. Héraclès à la croissé des chemins: un topos dans la literature grécolatine. Études Classiques 66, 1998, 105−113.

Savage, John J. (tr.). Saint Ambrose: Hexameron, Paradise, and Cain And Abel. Fathers of the Church 42. Catholic University of America, 1961.

Smith, Richard Upsher. The Pythagorean letter and Virgil’s golden bough. Dionysius 18, 2000, pp. 7−24. https://dialnet.unirioja.es/revista/10126/A/2000

Uebersax, John S.  The strange woman of Proverbs. 2009. https://catholicgnosis.wordpress.com/2009/05/19/the-strange-woman-of-proverbs/

1st draft, 1 Mar 2020

The Seven Virtues and Fifty Subvirtues of Medieval Christianity

Tree of Virtues from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 26r.

BEGINNING in the 11th century we find in Western medieval manuscripts frequent portrayal of virtues and vices as tree diagrams.  These vary in details, but always include the four cardinal virtues of the Greek ethical tradition (Fortitude, Temperance,  Prudence and Justice) and the three theological virtues (Faith, Hope and Charity) of Christianity.  Each virtue is shown as a branch of the tree accompanied by seven sub-virtues (Charity may have up to ten sub-virtues, so we’ll say roughly fifty subvirtues in total) as leaves.  Often a parallel tree of the seven deadly vices and their sub-vices accompanies the Tree of Virtues.  Pride (superbia) is considered the common root of all vices, and Humility (humilitas) of all virtues.

The best-known of these figures appear in a 12th century work called the Speculum virginum (Mirror of Virgins), a devotional work intended for the spiritual formation of nuns and attributed to Conrad of Hirsau. (Mews, 2001 supplies a wealth of information on the Speculum virginum.)

The Speculum virginum shows the Tree of Virtue and Tree of Vices side by side on facing pages, as below:

Tree of Vices (left) and Tree of Virtues (right), Walters MS W.72, fols. 25v-26r

The trees in the Speculum virginum are based on an earlier work, De fructibus carnis et spiritus (On the Fruits of the Flesh and Spirit), sometimes attributed to Hugh of St. Victor, but possibly written by Conrad of Hirsau.  The Prologue of De fructibus introduces the two trees as follows:

SINCE every word of Divine Scripture aims to convince one of the good of humility, and to advise more attentively to decline the evil of pride, especially since on the one hand it is the beginning of salvation and life, and on the other of ruin, it seems necessary that the fruit and efficacy of humility and pride itself should be seen as a form visible to the devotee of virtues, to show … in so far one is the imitator of either species, of pride, or of humility, the quality of the fruits, and what reward one obtains from the execution of either. Therefore, we present two trees, different in fruit and growth, both rough and young, to each of the opposites, with vices or virtues attached to them; with a few definitions, from whose root the fruits proceed, and which tree is to be chosen from the two, attracted by the fruit, one can discern. Indeed pride is the root of the fruit of the flesh, humility the fruit of the spirit. This diversity, looking at the roots, shows the appetite of those who seek their fruits in moderation. Old Adam places himself in the castle of the wicked tree. The new Adam obtains the guidance of the spiritual results. If, therefore, the more excellent is the worse, that is, you have joined the good to the evil from the other side, which stands out in these, and which you have strongly understood to predominate. For when the qualities of the opposites are compared, a better estimation will soon be evident. Therefore, having looked at our roots, branches, and fruits, it is up to you to choose what you will.
(Source: De fructibus carnis et spiritus; Prologue; my translation)

At issue is a fundamental distinction between a soul organized by (in St. Paul’s terms; e.g., Romans 8) carnal mindedness or by spiritual mindedness.  St. Augustine’s elaboration of the distinction — love of the world and love of God — respectively came to virtually define ethical psychology in the Middle Ages. 

The evil tree on the left appears under the rubric Vetus Adam (Old Adam), or man unredeemed. Rooted in superbia (Pride),  its crowning fruit is luxuria (Sensory Pleasure) and it is prominently labeled Babylonia, or a city of confusion.

The good tree on the right appears under the rubric Novus Adam (New Adam), or a regenerated person in a state of grace. Rooted in Humilitas (Humility), its crowning fruit is Caritas (Charity) and it is labeled Hierosolyma (Jerusalem; city of peace). For more discussion on the significance of these trees, and especially how they relate to medieval Christianity’s central empahsis on Charity, see Robertson (1951).

Humility, we should note, is meant in the Christian sense as (1) an accurate recognition of one’s own sinfulness, frailty, ignorance and utter dependence on God, and (2) a subordination of one’s own will to God’s. Pride does not mean arrogance, conceit, or self-aggrandizement so much as self-will.

More than a simple device to assist in the memorization of ethical doctrine, these and the several other figures in the Speculum are conceptual tools.  They supply an interiorly retained image, with which one may visualize internal psychological processes and form productive associational structures, promoting integration of spiritual mindendess into ones personality.

The seven Virtues and their sub-virtues are listed below.  The selection of sub-virtues and their definitions appears influenced by a variety of patristic and biblical sources. The vices and subvices are described in a separate post here.

Update:  Since posting this I’ve added a related article, The Thirty Seraphic Virtues of the Middle Ages.

❧

PRUDENCE (prudentia)

• Fear of God (timor Domini)
• Promptness (alacritas)
• Counsel (consilium)
• Memory (memoria)
• Intelligence (intelligentia)
• Foresight (providentia)
• Deliberation (deliberatio)

JUSTICE (justitia )

• Law (lex)
• Strictness (severitas)
• Equity (aequitas)
• Correction (correctio; Correctio est erroris innati vel consuetudine introducti freno rationis inhibitio.)
• Honoring a pledge (jurisjurandi observatio; Jurisjurandi observatio est quae, plebescito civibus promulgato, transgressionem ejus temerariam arcet praestito juramento de conservatione illius perpetua.)
• Judgment (judicium)
• Truth (veritas)

COURAGE (fortitudo)

• Magnanimity (magnanimitas)
• Fidelity (fiducia)
• Tolerance (tolerantia)
• Rest (requies)
• Stability (stabilitas)
• Constancy (constantia)
• Perseverance (perseverantia)

TEMPERANCE (temperantia)

• Discernment (discretio)
• Obedience; acquiescence (morigeratio)
• Silence (taciturnitas)
• Fasting (jejunium)
• Sobriety (sobrietas)
• Physical penance; mortification of flesh (afflictio carnis; Afflictio carnis est per quem lascivae mentis seminaria castigatione discreta comprimuntur.)
• Contempt of the world (contemptus saeculi)

FAITH (fides)

• Pratice of religion (religio)
• Decorum (munditia; Munditia est consummata integritas utriusque hominis intuitu divini vel amoris vel timoris.)
• Obedience (obedientia)
• Chastity (castitas)
• Reverence (reverentia)
• Continence (continentia)
• Good desire (affectus)

HOPE (spes)

• Heavenly contemplation (contemplatio supernorum; Contemplatio supernorum est per sublevatae mentis jubilum mors carnalium affectuum).
• Joy (gaudium)
• Modesty (modestia)
• Confession (confessio)
• Patience (patientia)
• Sorrow for faults (compunctio)
• Longsuffering (longanimitas)

CHARITY (caritas)

• Forgiveness (gratia)
• Peace (pax)
• Piety (pietas)
• Mildness; leniency(mansuetudo)
• Liberality (liberalitas)
• Mercy (misericordia)
• Indulgence (indulgentia)
• Compassion (compassio)
• Benignity (benignitas)
• Concord (concordia)

❧

Bibliography

Goggin, Cheryl Gohdes. Copying manuscript illuminations: The Trees of Vices and Virtues. Visual Resources, 2004, 20:2-3, 179−198. https://doi.org/10.1080/0197376042000207552

Hugo de S. Victore (attr.). De fructibus carnis et spiritus. J. P. Migne. Patrologia Latina, Paris, 1854; cols. 997−1010 (rough diagrams of the Tree of Vices and Tree of Virtues appear at the end of the work).  Latin text is online: http://mlat.uzh.ch/?c=2&w=HuDeSVi.DeFrCaE

Katzenellenbogen, Adolf. Allegories of the Virtues and Vices in Medieval Art from Christian Times to the Thirteenth Century. Alan J. P. Crick (tr.). London: Warburg Institute, 1939.

Mews, Constant J. (ed.). Listen, Daughter: The “Speculum virginum” and the Formation of Religious Women in the Middle Ages. The New Middle Ages Series. Palgrave, 2001.  Pages 15−40.

Powell, Morgan. Gender, Reading, and Truth in the Twelfth Century: The Woman in the Mirror. Arc Humanities Press, 2020.

Robertson, D. W. The Doctrine of Charity in Mediaeval Literary Gardens: A Topical Approach through Symbolism and Allegory. Speculum, vol. 26, no. 1, 1951, pp. 24–49. Reprinted in: Robertson, Durant Waite. Essays in Medieval Culture. Princeton University Press, 1980 (repr. 2014); pp. 21−50.

Tucker, Shawn R. The Virtues and Vices in the Arts: A Sourcebook. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2015.

Watson, Arthur. The Speculum Virginum with special reference to the Tree of Jesse. Speculum, vol. 3, no. 4, 1928, pp. 445–69.

Art: “Tree of Virtues” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 26r; early 13th century manuscript from the Cistercian abbey of Himmerode, Germany. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Virtues_Speculum_Virginum_W72_26r.jpg

 

Hugh of St. Victor: Noah’s Ark as an Allegory for Contemplation

Art: (c) Conrad Rudolph

the ark is the secret place of our own heart

IN THE early High Middle Ages, before Scholasticism arose to dominate Christian theology, the Abbey of St. Victor in Paris was a leading intellectual center. Some work performed there built on the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius (translated into Latin two centuries earlier) to develop what we might call a science of contemplation, laying important groundwork for later Christian mysticism. Allegorical interpretation of Scripture supported this. Hugh of St. Victor’s (c. 1096–1141) exegesis of the story of Noah’s Ark is an example.

Philo (Questions and Answers on Genesis 1.89−2.78) and St. Ambrose (De Noe et Arca; PL 14.361−416) had, much earlier, allegorically interpreted the story of Noah and the Ark. In the light of these writings, the story emerges as a far more subtle and relevant myth than people ordinarily suppose. It’s very important to attend to specific details — such as the ark was three stories high, had a window and door, and that Noah first sent out a raven.

According to art historian Conrad Rudolph, Hugh lectured on the topic using a large, 10-foot square painting summarizing the symbolism. The figure shown above is Rudolph’s reconstruction.

Now the figure of this spiritual building which I am going to present to you is Noah’s ark. This your eye shall see outwardly, so that your soul may be fashioned to its likeness inwardly. You will see there certain colours, shapes, and figures which will be pleasant to behold. But you must understand that these are put there, that from them you may learn wisdom, instruction, and virtue, to adorn your soul. …

The third [ark] is that which wisdom builds daily in our hearts through continual meditation on the law of God. …

[W]hoever makes it his endeavour to cut himself off from the enjoyment of this world and cultivate the virtues, must with the assistance of God’s grace erect within himself a building of virtues three hundred cubits long in faith of Holy Trinity, fifty cubits wide in charity, and thirty cubits high in the hope that is in Christ, a building long in good works and wide in love and lofty in desire, so that his heart may be where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. …

If, then, we have begun to live persistently in our own heart through the practice of meditation, we have already in a manner ceased to belong to time; and, having become dead as it were to the world, we are living inwardly with God. We shall then easily make light of anything that fortune brings upon us outwardly, if our heart is there fixed where we are not subject to change, where we neither seek to have again things past, nor look for those to come, where we neither desire the pleasant things of this life, nor fear things contrary. Let us therefore have right thoughts, let us have pure and profitable thoughts, for of such material we shall build our ark. These are the timbers that float when they are put into the water and burn when placed in the fire; for the tide of fleshly pleasures does not weigh down such thoughts, but the flame of charity enkindles them. …

As we have said before, the ark of the flood is the secret place of our own heart, in which we must hide from the tumult of this world. But because the feebleness of our condition itself prevents our staying long in the silence of inward contemplation, we have a way out by the door and window. The door denotes the way out through action, the window the way out through thought. The door is below, the window above, because actions pertain to the body and thoughts to the soul. That is why the birds went out through the window and the beasts and men through the door. …

But the fact that the door is situated in the side denotes that we must never leave the secret chamber of our heart through our own deliberate choice, but only as necessity may happen to demand. …

But the fact that the door is situated in the side denotes that we must never leave the secret chamber of our heart through our own deliberate choice, but only as necessity may happen to demand.  …

Now we go out by action in four ways. For some actions are carnal those, that is to say, which are concerned with physical need; others are spiritual, and are concerned with the instruction of the mind. Good men and bad go forth for both. Those who are enslaved to the outward fulfilling of their lusts are like the unclean animals that went forth from the ark. Those, however, who discharge them from necessity are animals indeed, but clean. …

Eve ‘saw that the tree was pleasant to the eyes, and was good for food, and she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat’. Those who in this way issue forth through thought are like the raven which did not return. For when they find outside what gives them evil pleasure, they never want to come back again to the ark of conscience. …

The other three kinds of contemplation, however, are symbolized by the going forth of the dove who, when she was sent out and found no rest for her foot, returned at evening carrying in her mouth an olive branch in leaf. She went out empty, but she did not return so. For she found outside that which she did not have within, although the thing that she brought in she did not love outside. The olive branch in leaf denotes a good state of soul.

Source: Hugh of St. Victor, De arca Noe morali. In: Hugh of St. Victor: Selected Spiritual Writings, Translated by a religious of the Community of St. Mary the Virgin,  Harper, 1962.  [ebook].

Latin: Hugh of Saint-Victor. Omnia opera. Patrologia Latina, ed. J. P. Migne, vol. 176. Paris, 1854. Cols. 618−680.

Art:  Rudolph, Conrad. The Mystic Ark: Hugh of Saint Victor, Art, and Thought in the Twelfth Century. Cambridge University Press, 2014.

Neoplatonism and Christian Iconography

One picture is indeed worth a thousand words.  Once someone asked me for a simple definition of Neoplatonism, and I was surprised to find myself at an almost complete loss for words.  It’s not that the principles of Neoplatonism are too complicated, but more that they involve so different a way of looking at things  that simple definitions do not readily suggest themselves.  Christian Neoplatonism seems at least as difficult, and perhaps more so, to define in a few words as Neoplatonism.

Therefore I was quite pleased to discover this illustration, which appeared quite by accident in the course of other pursuits, and which expresses several basic premises of Christian Neoplatonism.

About this work I know nothing – not the artist, source, or even original medium.  The style is suggestive of late 19th century British or American Christian art.

The literal scene, in any case, is the Transfiguration of Jesus (Matt. 17:1-9, Mark 9:2-8; Luke 9:28-36):

1. Jesus appears as the main figure, flanked left and right by Moses and Elijah.
2. Kneeling in the foreground are the apostles John (with folded hands), who kneels beside his brother James, and Peter kneeling by himself.
3. Surrounding Jesus is an almond-shaped ‘aura’, known technically as a mandorla.  This artistic motif is analogous to a nimbus or halo, but surrounds the body of a divinity rather than the head.  An oval mandorla around Jesus is a staple of Transfiguration art.

Now for the Neoplatonic elements.  We hasten to remark that whether the artist knew something of Neoplatonism, or if instead these elements derive solely from unconscious inspiration, is not known.  A third possibility, imitation of other works, cannot be excluded, but the uniqueness of the iconography here tends to suggest originality.

The work can be parsed as a set of intersecting or overlapping circles:

4. The largest circle, encompassing most of the area, could be interpreted as the material world.  This area itself is composed of concentric rings.  Notice, for example, the band containing radiating tongues of flame, suggesting the Sun.  Beyond that is the celestial, starry realm.  This much reminds us of ancient ‘concentric spheres’ models of the universe.
5. Coming from above is a second circle (or set of circles).  This clearly seems to correspond to God, or God the Father.   Note, though, the similarity of elements between this circle and the larger one.  The similarity could be understood as God containing the archetypes of all that is present in the material world.  That is, everything in the material realm — the earth, Sun, stars, etc. — first exists as ideas in the mind of God, or what Neoplatonists called the noetic cosmos.
6. Connecting the two circles of God and the material world is Jesus.  The viewer’s eye is drawn to the large and elaborate halo of Jesus as distinct from his body.  The halo again contains the details found in the God and earth circles; this would fit with the idea of Jesus, as the Word (Logos) of God, being in a sense an ‘image’ or ’emanation’ of God. (We use these words very loosely,  however; Christian theologians expressly deny that Jesus Christ is an emanation of God the Father; all we are really considering here is the idea of possible structural homologies between God, Jesus Christ, and the material world).
7. The God circle includes a smaller circle, which (a) again, structurally recapitulates the elements of the other circles, and (b) contains a prominent hand.  The hand seems to be connecting God the Father and Jesus.  The placement of this circle and hand seems to suggest their mediating relationship between God and Jesus.  One feature of Neoplatonism (e.g. Proclus) and Christian Neoplatonism (e.g., Dionysius the Areopagite) is the frequent postulation of mediating levels or agents between other levels or agents.

Whether the hand is meant to suggest the Holy Spirit is not clear.  It’s placement just above Jesus’ head would be consistent with such an interpretation; however the artist must have intentionally chosen to place a hand, rather than a dove here,  and perhaps with greater artistic effect.