Page - 68 - in Europäische Bild- und Buchkultur im 13. Jahrhundert

68 michaEl a. michaEl can be blamed on someone or something beyond the control of the actors – some- one or thing that can be classed as ‘other’. The syllogism that it creates is familiar to us all. The objection that any medievalist might bring to this line of enquiry is that none of this speculation about the nature of tragedy can be evidenced in terms of the known symbols and meanings we can recover from empirical research. Indeed, the very idea of treating the scene of the Crucifixion in this way may offend many people in all sorts of ways, both methodologically in terms of the use of anachron- istic comparisons, and because this image still has a potent and meaningful reson- ance for a Christian believer today. But this type of investigation does not diminish or remove these truly great works of art from their context – it restores them to their metaphysical state. Nevertheless, the seemingly virtuous or uplifting feelings inspired by these images carry within them some very prejudiced beliefs that we might find rather distasteful. In this light, it is reassuring to note that the Harleian Catalogue of 1808–12 was wise enough to describe the story of Adam of Bristol as: a Fabula ineptissima de filio Willelmi Wallensis civis Bristolliae.44 Plato cautioned against the exploitation of extreme emotions because they could lead to an uncontrollable effect. Aristotle, if we read him correctly in the Poet- ics, offers us a way of distancing ourselves from the emotion and using it to gain understanding through the process of catharsis.45 It can be argued that some of the extremes of behaviour associated with popular belief should not be associated at all with the religious culture surrounding churchmen such as the Abbot of Peterbor- ough. The pervasive nature of these beliefs, however, when viewed as an anthropo- logical phenomenon, need, nevertheless, to sit beside even such a beautiful image as that in the Lindesey Psalter before it can be better understood. In the hands of great artists such attitudes can ‘become form’ (figs. 1–3, 7, 8, 10). The power of such images lies in their ability to express the prevailing, often unwrit- ten and barely expressed, collective feelings which are manifested in quite diverse ways when expressed in literature and historical writing.46 To a certain extent we can recover what lies on the surface of the image through description, but what are we able to recover of the impetus behind its creation? The meaning of these images is not the sum of their component parts, however sensitively or elaborately we try to contextualise them. It is, however, certainly carried in the heightened sense of the humanity of Christ created through the depiction of His body that affects us even now (fig. 10). It strikes an emotional chord that allows us to create a retrospective cultural identity for these works of art, that ought to be placed among those that represent the greatest achievements of English art in the thirteenth century. Moreover, this image is not merely a trigger for devotion. When Eric Miller wrote about English manuscript illumination in his ground-breaking volumes of the 1920s, he noted that William Morris was inspired to request membership of the 44 A Catalogue of the Harleian Manuscripts (cit. n. 34), p. 484. 45 The Republic of Plato, ed. and trans. Francis M. Cornford, Oxford 1941, pp. 326–29. 46 This phrase is taken from the exhibition: When Attitudes Become Form, Works – Con- cepts – Processes – Situations – Information. Exhibition and Catalogue directed by Harald Szeemann, Kunsthalle, Bern 1969. It is used here to illustrate how meaning can reside in forms that may not necessarily coincide with our expected notions of what an artwork should be.