The Ganymede Capital at Vézelay Author(s): Ilene H. Forsyth Source: Gesta, Vol. 15, No. 1/2, Essays in Honor of Sumner McKnight Crosby (1976), pp. 241246 Published by: International Center of Medieval Art Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/766772 Accessed: 26/01/2009 15:19 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=icma. Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit organization founded in 1995 to build trusted digital archives for scholarship. We work with the scholarly community to preserve their work and the materials they rely upon, and to build a common research platform that promotes the discovery and use of these resources. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. International Center of Medieval Art is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Gesta. http://www.jstor.org The Ganymede Capital at V6zelay ILENE H. FORSYTH University of Michigan Six years before Sumner Crosby began his life-long association with Saint-Denis-an enterprise which did so much to develop American interest in Romanesque Franceone of the iconographic enigmas among the sculptures at Vezelay was seemingly solved. Jean Adhemar identified the subject of the capital on the south face of the southwest pier of the nave as the Rape of Ganymede (Figs. 1-2). He demonstrated its association with the passage in Virgil's Aeniad which recounts the abduction of the handsome young hunter by Jupiter in the form of an eagle: "The royal boy [Ganymede] with javelin and speedy foot, on leafy Ida tires fleet stags, eager, and like to one who pants; him Jove's swift armour bearer has caught up aloft from Ida in his talons; his aged guardians in vain stretch their hands to the stars and the savage barking of dogs rises skyward" (Aeniad, V, 255-257). The text accounts for the presence of the boy, the eagle, the barking dog (the attribute of Ganymede) and the vainly protesting, aged guardians; it explains everything except the grotesque devil, so prominently placed under the right volute of the capital. Adhemar interpreted the demon as a macabre witness to the event; the distention of his mouth with his two fingers was seen as a diabolic expression of joy at the fate of the boy. Adhemar suggested further that the iconographer intended to stigmatize moral turpitude.1 His solution to the capitals iconographic puzzle is generally accepted, but I hope to show that besides reflecting the interest of the twelfth century in Classical literature, the total meaning of the capital is more complex and has a direct relevance to contemporary monastic life at Vezelay. References in texts of Romanesque date seem to clarify the significance of this exceptional work. Surprisingly the Romanesque interpretation of the myth is closer to Virgil's account than to renditions of the theme in Classical art. The subject was a favorite with both Greeks and Romans and many examples survive. In early versions Zeus himself carries off Ganymede. Later, the boy is shown abductedby an eagle representing the god. This version predominates, and examples survive in many media and from all periods and parts of the ancient world. FIGURE 1. Vezelay, La Madeleine, capital, Rape of Ganymede. The disposition of figures varies, but the nude Ganymede shown standing or reclining and being lifted heavenward by the eagle is particularly common. Influential in this iconographic tradition was the bronze group of Ganymede and the Eagle attributed to the Athenian sculptor Leochares, c. 350 B.C. Probably his work is represented in a number of copies, such as the famous marble version in the Vatican, and there are dim reflections of it in Gallo-Roman art. In the Roman period the theme took on sepulchral symbolism and appeared frequently on tombs and sarcophagi.2 A particularly arresting example of the older, Greek portrayal of the myth in which Zeus himself carries off his minion, is the terracotta group of c. 470 B.C. at Olympia (Fig. 3).3 It contrasts markedly with our Romanesque work. In the Olympian sculpture a boyish prettiness pervades the slight, nude form of Ganymede's body. He yields easily to the firm embrace of Zeus and places his right hand very trustingly-the fingers are still visible-on the powerful arm which grasps him; with his left he happily clutches the love gift of a cock. The radiant faces, 241 FIGURE 2. Veelay, La Madeleine, capital, Rape of Ganymede, detail. the snug fit of the forms and the suggestion of fleet movement in them express elation and the anticipation of pleasure. The play between the mature assertiveness of the adult and the innocent submission of the boy, evoked by incipient versus developed masculine shapes, conveys the essence of the relationship. In our Vezelay sculpture, this emphasis upon splendid nude bodies and a close physical relationship is totally eclipsed by the terrifying interpretation given the event. In the Greek work the handsome Zeus grasps the boy protectively; in Hellenistic, Roman or even Gallo-Roman examples, the wings of the eagle provide a gentle support for him, and he is wafted heavenward as if in a feathered chariot.4 The tone is expectant. At Vezelay the wings of the vulturous bird are harshly vertical, his pose rapacious, tensed for attack; enormous talons clutch at the young hunter's snarling dog, and the beak of the bird, like that of a falcon, has a cruel sharpness as it snatches and crushes the child. The scene becomes an image of childhood terror. Vainly pleading and lamenting, the frantic parents rush 242 toward the boy from the left.5 The fear of the child is graphically conveyed: he presses his hands together desperately as if in prayer; his eyes bulge in panic; his hair literally stands on end, and his mouth opens to utter a hideous scream as the twisted, slight body disappears above. An hysterical family watching its innocent child snatched from them by the attack of a brutish, aggressive monster instigated by a demon becomes a tragedy as horrible as the attacks of birds of prey upon small, helpless creatures in open fields. Here Ganymede, the young hunter of the Classical myth, is himself the hunted one. Although the Romanesque work contains the Classical components of the Ganymede myth, its meaning is antithetical to the concept underlying the ancient story.6 Instead of a joyous apotheosis to an eternal life of youth, beauty and erotic pleasure among the gods on Olympus, the Romanesque boy appears at the very brink of damnation. The unwitting plaything of a brute, demonic force, he is suspended, upside down, in a position of perpetual agony. The eagle is the animal agent of this horror, but the monstrous, horned devil at his side is clearly its creator. Occupying the prominent portion of the capital's field, he and the eagle are hardly counterbalanced by the helpless figures on the weaker left side. Adhemar was concerned about the composition of the scene which he considered unbalanced and poorly adjusted to the capital's conical surface-weaknesses which he ascribed to the artist's effort to accommodate the text's unfamiliar subject. The position of the eagle vainly "striving" for the focal center of the capital particularly disturbed him. An academic demand for static symmetry around a central vertical axis ignores the conscious, and very sophisticated, intention of the artist to create an asymmetrical, dynamic composition of open, deeply-cut and richly-textured forms. Thrusting overpoweringly to the left, they express the violent assault which is the theme of the capital. This analysis brings us closer to an understanding of the capital's serious meaning. While using the Ganymede story in his discussion of hunting perils in the Polycraticus (c. 1159), John of Salisbury, the humanist who became Bishop of Chartres, also indicated his awareness of the boy's role on Olympus: "they record that the Trojan hunter [Ganymede] was carried into the heavens by an eagle to serve as cupbearer, from which to go on to illicit and unnatural embraces."' His words reflect the deep anxiety of the Church earlier in the Romanesque period concerning pederasty. St. Peter Damian devoted an entire book, aptly entitled the Liber Gomorrhianus (c. 1049), to problems of sexual perversions among the clergy, especially homosexuality.8 He described in surprising detail four types of such vices, delineated their various refinements, from auto-eroticism to unnatural types of intercourse, and classified them downward from the degree of vileness which is least culpable to that uttermost viciousness contrived by the devil, homosexuality, as "grades of descent down to the luckless soul thrust into the depths of Gehenna's hellfire FIGURE 3. Olympia, Museum, Zeus and Ganymede, terracotta abyss" (c. I).9 But Damian reserved the vials of his extreme wrath for those villainous ecclesiastical fathers who pollute their spiritual sons: O scelus inauditum! 0 facinus toto lacrimarum fonte lugendum! He went on to ask what kind of torture would be appropriate for those guilty of such wrong, punishable by damnation, and further, what kind of offspring could be expected in the flock, when the shepherd is plunged with such headlong descent into the belly of the devil. Who, he asked, would submit to the authority of one he knows to be thus estranged from God. In Damian's opinion, it was more tolerable to sink into shame with an animal because less severe judgment is passed upon a person who sins alone than one who drags another with him to damnation (c. VI).10 Damian's vigorous condemnation of such vices matched the stern penalties he recommended for them. In his opinion no one in holy orders, so attainted, was suitable to conduct divine service. As to clerics or monks who seduced youths and children, the recommended penalties were harsh indeed: public shame and scourging, loss of the tonsure, fetters of iron, imprisonment for six months, fasting three days a week until vespers; thereafter for another six months life under the custody of an elder ecclesiastic in an isolated cell, with manual labor and prayer punctuated by vigils and orisons, always in the custody of two devout brethren and never in improper discourse or association with young men (c. XV).11 Damian addressed the book to Pope Leo IX, a keen supporter of Cluniac reform, who also deplored the four kinds of foulness classified by Damian and meted out degrees of punishment from programs of penance for those who have "not done it often" or "with many" to the removal of all hope of recovering their ecclesiastical rank for those of extreme perseverance.12 These problems were obviously perennial. With the growth of monasticism in the eleventh and early twelfth centuries bringing the press of numbers into outmoded accommodations, the problems must have enlarged accordingly. Although particularly acute in Damian's time of broadly championed reform, they were still current within the Cluniac network during the first decades of the twelfth century when our sculpture was conceived. The reforming Cluniac decrees of Peter the Venerable (abbot of Cluny, 1122-1156) attended to the most mundane details of monastic life, regulated diet, dress, labor, activities in the cloister, and imposed restraints in numerous ways. Two of his statutes dealt with the oblate children of the cloister (pueri scholari).13 The practice of oblation or the commitment of very young children by their parents to a monastic life was at its height during the time of Damian's Liber Gomorrhiana. Mary McLaughlin has recently discussed this practice by which for centuries cloistered communities enlisted recruits. She argued persuasively that these children became a vital part of their c mmunities. This proved so, despite the obvious negative factors such as the distress of separation from parents and siblings, the rigor of a firmly constrained life, the questionable motivation of the parents-which was often a matter of mere convenience-and especially the involuntary and often irreversible manner of effecting the association which filled the monasteries with a "conscript army." Their residence, often in large numbers, raised problems resolvable only through the development of skills in the rearing of children that would foster their religious and intellectual education as well as their physical well being. McLaughlin says " ... the presence of children in these communities fostered in, or forced upon, many that sense of distinctiveness of childhood as a stage of life with its own needs and capacities."14 243 marized: "Entrusted to the care of masters, one of whom was to remain between two boys wherever they went, they were always to sit apart from one another 'in such In their a way as to prevent any physical contact'.... relations with each other and with older monks they were not to hand anything to anyone or receive anything from anyone except the abbot, prior or masters and no one but these was ever to 'make a sign to them or smile to them.' None of the other monks was to enter their school or speak to them anywhere without the permission of the abbot or prior."16McLaughlin concluded: "Plainly intended among other things, to prevent sexual activities among the children and the development of dangerous intimacies with their elders, this rigorous watchfulness reflected, and no doubt enhanced, fears that were evidently well-founded. Testimony to the facts and fantasies of sexual temptations of every variety abounds in the monastic sources of this period."17 The custom of oblation was on the wane in the late eleventh century as criticism of the practice grew. Citing the Rule of Benedict on their behalf, Peter the Venerable urged greater kindness to the boys and more restraint in the disciplining of them. He appeared concerned about their number, which he apparently limited to six oblates at Cluny.18In liberalizing attitudes toward the oblates and in providing for more individual treatment of them his purposes reflect a genuine interest in their well-being and concern for their security. The story in Peter the Venerable's De Miraculis about the sexual assault of a monastic schoolmaster upon a boy reveals much: Once upon a time, moreover,during the hours of night a certainother brother,a carpenter,was lying in a place a little apart from the rest. As is the customin monastic dorters,a lighted lamp illuminatedthis place. Then while he lay in bed, not yet asleep, he saw a frightfulvulture, with difficulty supporting the weight of its immense body on wings and feet, run up panting as if from exertion and stand at his bedside. As the brother gazed upon it with astonishment,lo and behold, two other demonsarrivedin the form of men, and addressedthemselves to that vulture,in realitya demon, as follows:They said: "What are you doing here? Are you able to effect anythinghere?" "I can do nothing," he said, "because, by the protectionof the cross, the aspersionof holy water and the murmuringof psalms,I am repelledby everyone. I have workedhere all night, as you see, and I have expended my energy in vain. Not having the power to succeedin anything,I came hither from that place, exhausted But tell me of your journey, and if it yielded somethingfortunateto you." They said: "We have come from Cabilone where we inciteda certainGaufredusof Donziaco,to fall into adultery with the wife of his host. Moreovergoing througha 244 certain monastery we brought it about that the master of the school committed fornication with one of the boys. But what is your business, you idler? Stand up and at least cut off the leg of the monk who looks at us; he extends it beyond the bed in disorderlyfashion."19 The devils who induced the schoolmaster to seduce the boy recall our capital; for they play the same role as the demon in our sculpture. In the context of the monastic customaries and contemporaneous writings, particularly those of Peter the Venerable, the capital's message becomes clear. As an admonishment to the Benedictines at Vezelay and with all the concentrated force of Romanesque art it taught that the crime symbolized by the Ganymede scene was the devil's own handiwork. His prominence in the capital and his position on its right side, both carefully calculated, allowed him to glare and gesture obscenely at the monks as they left the church through the south aisle. The devil is the protagonist of the drama, and fear of his assault is its theme; Ganymede is thus analogous to the typical oblate in the abbey, and the eagle a metaphor for those clerics and monks who would wantonly prey upon a boy's vulnerability. The Classical myth, put to a Christian purpose, alerted the community to the incitements of the devil in an effort to deter any monk or cleric afflicted with a roving and concupiscent eye. Were concerns regarding the sexual abuse of children not rife at the time, the ancient story would have been a hollow quotation from the lore of the past, its Virgilian reference understood only by the learned. The intensity of its expression indicates a typical Romanesque tour-de-force, in which a Classical literary form becomes the vehicle for a strongly felt, contemporary, Christian message.20 The Ganymede myth was not yet "moralized" in our capital as Ovid's fables were to be in the Ovide moralise of the late Middle Ages, or "spiritualized" as in Dante's Purgatorio (canto IX, 11. 13-33) and other late medieval and early Renaissance literature. From the fifteenth and subsequent centuries it appeared in works of art such as Filarete's doors for St. Peter's and in the emblem books of Alciati, Bocchius and others. With their mingling of Christian and revived pagan sentiments, these late portrayals commonly allegorized the enraptured soul in its ascent to God.21 Although we have not sufficient evidence to claim Peter the Venerable as the iconographer of the capital, his role as prior at Vezelay in his years there before 1122, when he was called to Cluny as abbot, does suggest that he himself might have conceived the idea of using the pagan Ganymede myth in sculpture as a constant warning to the Christian community to resist the fearsome temptation ever set before them by the devil's wiles.22 NOTES 1. J. Adhemar, "L'Enlevement de Ganymede sur un chapiteau de Vezelay," Bulletin monumental, 91, 1932, 290-92; idem, Influences antiques dans l'art du moyen age francais, Recherches sur les sources et les themes d'inspiration, Studies of the Warburg Institute, 7, London, 1939, 222-23. Cf. F. Salet, La Madeleine de Vezelay ("etude iconographique" by Jean Adhemar), Melun, 1948, no. 12, 182-83, pl. 31. The subject was considered unknown in earlier publications: M. Aubert, Les richesses d'art de la France, La Bourgogne, La sculpture, Paris, Brussels, 1927, I, 17, pl. 39; E. Male, L'Art religieux du XIIe siecle, Paris, 1922, 368 (cf. p. 444 in revised editions); C. Poree, L'Abbaye de Vezelay, Paris, s.d. [1909], C. Poree, "Vezelay," Congres archeologique de France, 74, Avallon, 1907, Paris, 1908, 2444, pl. II foll. p. 30. The earlier literature is given by Salet, op. cit. For the Loeb edition of the Aeniad, see Virgil, ed. H. Rushton Fairclough,London, 1927, I, 462-63. 2. For Ganymede in ancient art see: K. Schauenburg, "Ganymed und Hahnenkampfe auf romischen Sarkophagen," Archaeologischer Anzeiger, 1972, 501-516; M. Bieber, The Sculpture of the Hellenistic Age, rev. ed. New York, 1961, 62f; H. Sichtermann, Ganymed, Mythos und Gestalt in der antiken Kunst, Berlin, 195-; R. Engemann, "Ganymed," Reallexikon fur Antike und Christentum, Stuttgart, 1950ff, 1039f; R. Herbig, "Ganymed und der Adler," Ganymed, Heidelberger Beitrage zur antiken Kunstgeschichte, Anlisslich der 100-Jahr-Feierder Sammlungen des Archaeologischen Instituts der Universitit Heidelberg, ed. R. Herbig, Heidelberg, 1949, 1-9; E. Esperandieu, Recueil general des bas-reliefs de la Gaule romaine, 14 vols. Paris, 1907-1955, nos. 328, 360, 487, 897, 2758, 2863, 3033, 3229, 3272, 4066, 5152, 5223, 5268, 6256, 6426, 6931, 7673, NB 360 (Vienne), 5268 (Igelsaule near Trier); M. Heron de Villefosse, "Le Ganymede de Cherchel," Bulletin archeologique du Comite des travaux historiques et scientifiques, 1914, 264-69, pl. XVIII; Pauly-Wissowa, Real-encyclopadie, ,cols. 73749; C. Daremberg, E. Saglio, Dictionnaire des antiquites grecques et romaines, Paris, 1896, col. 707; W. H. Roscher, Ausfihrliches Lexikon der griechischen und r6mischen Mythologie, Leipzig, 1890, cols. 1595-1603. In the late antique period Ganymede was thought of as Aquarius. Gallo-Roman pavements with portrayals of the Rape of Ganymede include the following: Orbe (A. Blanchet, Inventaire des mosaiques de la Gaule, II, Lugdunaise, Belgique et Germanie, Paris, 1909, no. 1382); Vienne, Museum, from Sainte-Colombe (G. Lafaye, Inventaire des mosaiques de la Gaule, I, Narbonnais et Aquitaine, Paris, 1909, no. 209; A. Blanchet, Etude sur la decoration des edifices de la Gaule romaine, Paris, 1913, p. 85). Cf. K. Phillips, Jr., "Subjectand Technique in Hellenistic-Roman Mosaics: A Ganymede Mosaic from Sicily," The Art Bulletin, 42, 1960, 243-62. 3. R. Lullies, M. Hirmer, Greek Sculpture, New York, 1960, no. 105, pls. V, 105; Sichterman, Ganymed, no. 81. 4. E.g. Esperandieu, Recueil, NB nos. 360 (Vienne), 2863 (Sens), 3272 (Langres). Pliny makes a point of the gentleness of the eagle bearing the precious Ganymede; Natural History, XXXIV, 79. 5. Salet and Adhemar describe the figure of a woman, now mutilated, on the left side of the capital, which suggests that the boy's parents are intended; Salet, Vezelay, 183. A third figure at the far left appears to be a hunter. Note the similarity of the eagle on the capital to the eagle which figured as the symbol of John the Evangelist in the main tympanum of the Abbey Church at Cluny; Musee National du Louvre, Description raisonnee des sculptures du moyen sge, de la renaissance et des temps modernes, I, Moyen age, ed. M. Aubert, M. Beaulieu,Paris, 1950, no. 24. 6. In spite of the fact that Ovid's writings were acquiring even greater popularity in the twelfth century than Virgil's, particularly in the schools, the Ganymede fable in the Metamorphoses (X, 155-161) is more distant from the Vezelay interpretation of the subject. "The king of the gods once burned with love for Phrygian Ganymede, and something was found which Jove would rather be than what he was. Still he did not deign to take the form of any bird save only that which could bear his thunderbolts. Without delay he cleft the air on his lying wings and stole away the Trojan boy, who even now, though against the will of Juno, mingles the nectar and attends the cups of Jove." Ovid's Metamorphoses, Loeb Classical Library, ed. F.J. Miller, Cambridge, Mass., 1916, II, 74-75. See note 21 below. 7. Polycraticus, Lib. I, c. IV; J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina, Paris, 1844-1904, 199, col. 390; Adhemar, Influences, 223, n.2. 8. Opusculum VII. Migne, Pat. Lat., 1445, cols. 159-90 OJ Blum, St. Peter Damian, His Teaching on the Spiritual Life, Washington, D.C., 1947, 201 (following the chronology of Franz Neukirch). Cf. I Rom. 1: 26-27; I Cor. 6: 9-10; I Tim. 1: 10. 9. Migne, Pat. Lat., 145, col. 161. 10. Ibid., cols. 166-167. 11. Ibid., col. 174. 12. Ibid.,col. 160. 13. Ibid., 189, cols. 1040, 1043f; Dom D. Knowles, "The Reforming Decrees of Peter the Venerable," Petrus Venerahilis, 1156-1956, Studies and Texts Commemorating the Eighth Centenary of his Death, ed. G. Constable, J. Kritzeck, Studia Anselmiana, XL, Rome, 1956, 1-20, NB p. 18; J. Leclercq, Pierre le Venerable, Saint-Wandrille, 1946, passim. 14. M. Martin McLaughlin, "Survivors and Surrogates: Children and Parents from the Ninth to the Thirteenth Centuries," The History of Childhood, ed. L. deMause, New York, 1974, 132. See also G.G. Coulton, Life in the Middle Ages, Cambridge, 1967, IV, 80, 99-101; idem, Five Centuries of Religion, Cambridge, 1923, I, 81ff, 222-30, 326-27. The fifty-ninth chapter of the Rule of St. Benedict explains it thus: "If any nobleman shall offer his son to God in the monastery, let the parents, if the child himself be under age, make the petition for him, and together with the oblation wrap the formal promise and the hand of the boy in the altar cloth and thus dedicate him to God. ... In the same way let those who are poorer act. But such as have nothing whatever shall simply make the promise and offer their son before witnesses with the oblation." The Rule of Saint Benedict, trans. Cardinal Gasquet, New York, 1966, 102103. McLaughlin notes the forthcoming work by Pierre Riche, "L'Enfant dans la societe monastique aux XIe et XIIe siecles," Actes, Colloque international, Pierre Abelard-Pierre Venerable, Paris, 1974, not yet available to me. 15. B. Albers, Consuetudines monasticae, 4 vols., Stuttgart, Vienna, Monte Cassino, 1900-1912; Consuetudines Bernardi, ed. M. Herrgott in Vetus Disciplina Monastica, Paris, 1726; Consuetudines Udalrici, L. d'Achery, Spicilegium, Paris, 1728 and Migne, Pat. Lat., 149, cols. 741-47; Corpus Consuetudinum Monasticarum, ed. Kassius Hallinger, Rome, 1963-. For excerpts from the Constitutions of the monastery at Hirschau, c. 1000 (Migne, Pat. Lat., 150, cols. 939ff) and the Custumal of St. Benigne, Dijon, see Coulton, Life, IV, 99-101. McLaughlin has drawn un all of these in her discussion, "Survivors and Surrogates," 129-32, nn. 180-87; cf. N. Hunt, Cluny under St. Hugh, 1049-1109, London, 1967, 86, 96-99; Paul Meyvaert, "The Medieval Monastic Claustrum,"Gesta, 12, 1973, 54. 16. McLaughlin, "Survivors and Surrogates," 130, nn. 183-84. Familiarity between youths was discouraged with a number of specific proscriptions such as: "When they sit in cloister or chapter, let each have his own tree-trunk for a seat, and so far apart that none touch in any way even the skirt of the other's robe." . . . "Let the 245 masters sleep between every two boys in the dormitory, and sit between every two at other times, and if it be night, let all the candles be fixed without on the spikes which crown the lanterns, that they may be plainly seen in all that they do;" Coulton, Life, IV, 100, from the Custumalof St. Benigne, Dijon. Raby's discussion of a lyrical satire on a medieval French prelate ("Qui sedet hac sede ganimedior est Ganimede; / . . ."), A History of Secular Latin Poetry in the Middle Ages, Oxford, 1934, II, p. 289; F. von Bezold, Das Fortleben der antiken Gotter im Mittelalterlichen Humanismus, Bonn, 1922, 101 n. 174. 17. McLaughlin,'Survivors and Surrogates," 130-31. Early medieval penitentials prescribed stringent punishments for sexual transgressions by boys as well as clerics: J. McNeil, H.M. Gamer, Medieval Handbooks of Penance: A Translation of the Principal libri poenitentiales and selections from related documents, New York, 1965, passim, N.B. 103,113,185,250, 254, 302,309. For the text of the debate between Helen and Ganymede as champions of hetero-and homosexual love, a twelfth-century poem conceived as a moralizing deterrent for clerics, see W. Wattenbach, "Ganymed und Helena," Zeitschrift fur deutsches Alterthum, 18, 1875, 124-35; M. Manitius, Geschichte der lateinische Literatur des Mittelalters, III, Munich, 1931, 947-48; Raby, op. cit., 289-90. Erwin Panofsky wrote some pithy paragraphs on the subject, including the startling parallel drawn in the late Middle Ages between Ganymede and St. John the Evangelist with his eagle: Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art, Stockholm, Uppsala 1965, 78; idem. Studies in Iconology, New York, 1962, 213-18. For a similar blending of Classical and Christian concepts, see the author's forthcoming article on the cockfight theme in Burgundian Romanesque sculpture. In Roman sarcophagi the Ganymede iconography has taken on the meaning of a personal apotheosis, allegorizing the hopes of the dead; see Schauenburg, "Ganymed und Hahnenkampfe auf romischen Sarkophagen,"and note 2 above. 18. Statures 56, 66, Migne, Pat. Lat., 189, cols. 1040, 1043f. Knowles, "The Reforming Decrees," 18, n. 53; Coulton, Five Centuries of Religion, I, 327; Hunt, Cluny, pp. 96-97. In the time of Ulrich, who harshly criticized the practice of oblation (c. 1083), the number did not extend beyond six; according to Dom Knowles, loc. cit., "this would be a reasonable number in a community of sixty and was perhaps never raised."By the time of Peter the Venerable there were 300 monks at Cluny. Other monasteries appear to have taken in far larger numbers of oblates. 19. De miraculis, Lib. I, c. XIV; Migne, Pat. Lat., 189, cols. 877-78. To satisfy the curiosity of readers, the story concludes as follows: the vulture, thus goaded by the demons, snatched up the carpenter's axe which was lying under his bed. He raised it with all his strength for a blow, but the brother pulled his foot back just in time. The axe missed its mark. As it struck the end of the bed the demons disappeared. For the manuscripts of the De miraculis, see G. Constable, "Manuscripts of Work by Peter the Venerable," Petrus Venerabilis, 1156-1956, 219-36. The work enjoyed wide popularity during the Middle Ages and was frequently used as a source for exempla in medieval sermons, op. cit., 231. Cf. McLaughlin, "Survivors and Surrogates," n. 186. Jean Leclercq discussed the purpose of the De Miraculis in Pierre le Vgngrable,131-34, N.B. 133. 20. The image of Ganymede was featured in the writings of a number of other Romanesque literati, e.g. Bernard of Cluny (also known as Bernard of Morlaix), a poet at the abbey under Peter the Venerable. In a well known poem, notable as a beautiful example of Romanesque internal rhyme, he used the Classical figure of Ganymede as the vehicle of his attack on bestial sodomy in high places in his own day (De Contemptu Mundi, III, 191ff, ed. H.C. Hoskier, London, 1929, 77, "Faex sodomae patet, innumerus scatet, hue! Ganymedes, / Dum scelus exhihet, haec fera quaslihet incolit aedes. / Prima sedilia, culta cubilia sunt Ganymedis. / Juno relinquitur, et capra subditur -o furor! haedis, / .. ."). Baudryof Bourgueil (Baldricus Burguliensis, Benedictine abbot of Bourgueil and later Archbishop of Dol), turned repeatedly to the Ganymede story in his poetry; see Phyllis Abrahams, Les oeuvres poetiques de Baudri de Bourgueil (1046-1130), Edition critique publiee d'apres le manuscrit du Vatican, Paris, 1926. He used it to illustrate his praise of the beauty of youth (no. 38, p. 24) and to characterize the hedonistic excesses of the Greeks; he wove it into a dialogue on love between Paris and Helen (nos. 42, 43, pp. 32, 43, cf. no. 196, p. 202). In Baudry's letter to Gerard of Loudon, celebrating the peace of the cloister, he noted the dangerous attractions of the Ganymede-like youth but asked why such a liaison, like that of Jupiter with Ganymede, should so please a man and ended with a truly Classical terseness: "He keeps aloof from a whore, making a man a whore" ("Multus homo lascivius adhuc vult Juppiter esse. / Cum Ganimede suo requiescit Juppiter alter; / Ecce sibi sperat audere licentius ista, / Haec indulgere sibi vult commercia carnis./ . .. Quid sibi complacuit ut pauset cum Ganimede? / A meritrice vacat, faciens hominem meritricem?" no. 139, p. 112). Ernest Curtius devoted several important pages to this subject (European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, Bollingen Series, XXXVI, New York, 1953, 113-17; N.B. Baudry's contemporaries Marbod and Hilary on pederasty, pp. 115-16). Cf. F.J. 246 Many examples of the Ganymede image survive in France from the Gallo-Roman period, chiefly in bas-reliefs and mosaics. Although these would have provided readily available models for the sculptor of the capital at Vezelay, the inventive Romanesque treatment of the iconography makes such a dependence unlikely. See note 2 above. 21. For the Ovide moralise, see C. de Boer, Ovide moralise, poeme du commencement du quatorizieme siecle, publia d'apres tous les manuscrits connus, Amsterdam, 1915-1938 (Verhandelingen der Koninklijke Akademie van Vettenschappen te Amsterdam, 37), 2829 (X, 11. 724-52 correspond to Metamorphoses, X, 148-61). For the inspiration of Ovid in medieval poetry from the eleventh century on, among others see: C. Lord, "Three Manuscripts of the Ovide Moralise," The Art Bulletin, 57, 1975, 161-75; D. Robathan, "Ovid in the Middle Ages," Ovid, ed. J. Binns, London, 1973, 191-209; D.C. Allen, Mysteriously Meant, The Rediscovery of Pagan Symbolism and Allegorical Interpretation in the Renaissance, Baltimore, 1970, 163-67; M.D. Chenu, Nature, Man and Society in the Twelfth Century, Chicago, 1968 ('On the symbolist mentality'), 109-10; J. de Ghellinck, L'Essor de la litterature latine au Xlle siecle, Brussels, 1955, 284-85, 433-34, 471-72; L.P. Wilkinson, Ovid Recalled, Cambridge, 1955, 374-84; G.G. Coulton, Five Centuriesof Religion, I, pp. 183 n. 1, 543. For examples in the art of the Renaissance and later: H. Roeder, "The Borders of Filarete's Bronze Doors to St. Peter's," Journal of the Warburg-Courtauld Institute, 10, 1947, 153; Emblemata, Handbuch zur Sinnbildkunst des XVI. und XVII. Jahrhunderts, ed. A. Henkel, A. Schdne, Stuttgart, 1967, cols. 1726-1727; A. Pigler, Barockthemen, 2nd ed., Budapest, 1974, II, 93-95; A. Seznec, The Survivalof the Pagan Gods, New York, 1953, 101, 103. 22. According to Giles Constable, The Letters of Peter the Venerable, Cambridge, Mass., 1967, II, 39, the Classical authors best known to Peter the Venerable were Horace and Virgil. For his familiarity with the Aeniad, see loc. cit. Peter of Poitiers lauded Peter the Venerable in a panegyric as "in verse, a Virgil;" op. cit., 38. Cf. H. de Lubac, Exegese medievale, II, 2, Paris, 1964, 237ff ("Virgile, philosophe et prophete"). For the extensive comment on Virgil by John of Salisbury in Policraticus, Lib. VIII, see Migne, Pat. Lat., 199, cols. 709-822. Cf. the comments on Peter the Venerable by Adolf Katzenellenbogen, "The Central Tympanum at Vezelay, Its EncyclopedicMeaning and Its Relation to the First Crusade,"The Art Bulletin, 26, 1944, 141-51. Foto Marhourg); Photograph credits: Figure 1 (Courtesy of Bildarchi Figure 2 (Combier Imp. Macon), Figure 3 (Courtesy of Hirmer Fotoarchiv Miinchen).
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