Medieval Allegory and the Buildingof the New Jerusalem

This book investigates the concept of the New Jerusalem, the City ofGod, as an architectural ideal during the Middle Ages, and the way inwhich it is represented allegorically in patristic writings, liturgy,building, and later literature. The author begins by examining its concep-tual foundations in such sources as the Hebrew Bible, Bedes exegesis,the religious philosophy of Plotinus, and Augustines theology. She thenexplores the influence and the expression of the New Jerusalem in liturgyand architecture, using the twelfth-century remodelling of the AbbeyChurch of St-Denis and its dedication liturgy to show how the buildingserves as an eschatological and apocalyptic landscape. The chantrymovement in late medieval England is situated in this context, and leadsto a demonstration of the movements associations with the highly-wrought poem Pearl and its companion poems; the book analyses Pearlas medieval architecture, offering fresh perspectives on its elaborateconstruction and historical context.

ANN R. MEYER is an Associate Professor in the Department of Literature,Claremont McKenna College.

The Construction of the Temple in Jerusalem.Paris Bibliothque nationale de France, Department of Manuscripts,

French 247 fol. 163 (Antiquities, Book VIII)Clich Bibliothque nationale de France, Paris.

Illumination by Jean Fouquet, c. 1465

Medieval Allegory and the Buildingof the New Jerusalem

ANN R. MEYER

D. S. BREWER

Ann R. Meyer 2003

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under current legislationno part of this work may be photocopied, stored in a retrieval system,

published, performed in public, adapted, broadcast,transmitted, recorded or reproduced in any form or by any means,

without the prior permission of the copyright owner

First published 2003D. S. Brewer, Cambridge

ISBN 0 85991 796 7

D. S. Brewer is an imprint of Boydell & Brewer LtdPO Box 9, Woodbridge, Suffolk IP12 3DF, UK

and of Boydell & Brewer Inc.PO Box 41026, Rochester, NY 146044126, USA

website: www.boydell.co.uk

A catalogue record of this publication is availablefrom the British Library

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data

Meyer, Ann R. (Ann Raftery), 1963Medieval allegory and the building of the new Jerusalem / Ann R.

Meyer.p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.ISBN 0859917967 (hardback : alk. paper)

1. Jerusalem in Christianity History of doctrines Middle Ages,6001500. 2. Architecture, Medieval. 3. Allegory. 4. Eglise abbatialede Saint-Denis (Saint-Denis, France) 5. Chantries. 6. Pearl (MiddleEnglish poem) I. Title.BT93.5.M485 2003246'.55 dc21 2003009644

This publication is printed on acid-free paper

Printed in Great Britain bySt Edmundsbury Press Limited, Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

Contents

List of Illustrations vi

Acknowledgments vii

Editorial Note ix

Abbreviations x

Introduction 1

I. Philosophical and Theological Foundations

1 Foundations I: Plotinus Screen of Beauty 272 Foundations II: Augustines City of God 47

II. Liturgy and Architecture

3 Liturgy at St.-Denis and the Apocalyptic Eschatology of 69High Gothic

4 The Chantry Movement: An Intimate Art of the Medieval 98New Jerusalem

III. Poetry

5 Taking Allegory Seriously: Ornament as Invitation in Pearl 1376 e nwe cyt o Jerusalem: Pearl as Medieval Architecture 155

Epilogue 187

Bibliography 189

Index 203

List of Illustrations

Frontispiece: The Construction of the Temple in Jerusalem

1. Chantry priests, Works Chantry, Lincoln Cathedral 1162. Tomb (detail) of Bartholomew Burghersh, Lincoln Cathedral 1183. Tomb (detail) of Bartholomew Burghersh 1194. Tomb (detail) of Bartholomew Burghersh 1205. Shrine of Saint Werburgh, Chester Cathedral 1216. Percy Tomb (c. 134049), Beverley Minster 1227. Percy Tomb (detail) 1238. Percy Tomb (detail) 1259. Choir, Tewkesbury Abbey 127

10. Lierne Vault, Tewkesbury Abbey 12811. Fitzhamon Chapel (c. 139597), Tewkesbury Abbey 12912. Warwick Chapel (1422), Tewkesbury Abbey 13013. Trinity Chapel (c. 13901400), Tewkesbury Abbey 13114. Kneeling Effigy of Edward Despenser, Trinity Chapel, 132

Tewkesbury Abbey

vi

Acknowledgments

I wish to thank the Mellon Foundation and the University of Chicago Divisionof Humanities for their generous support of this project in its earliest stages.For support of my research in England and France, I am grateful to theUniversity of Chicagos Office of International Affairs, to the ClaremontMcKenna College Dean of Facultys Office, and the Benjamin J. GouldCenter for Humanistic Studies.

I especially wish to thank the following individuals at the University ofChicago: Michael Murrin, whose seminar on Medieval Allegory provided theinitial motivation and intellectual foundations for this project; DavidBevington for discerning criticism and professional acumen; Christina vonNolcken for critical bibliographic advice; Anne Walters Robertson for expertadvice on medieval French liturgy; Peter Dembowski for suggestions ontranslation of Froissarts poetry; and the late Michael Camille who gave valu-able guidance on how best to incorporate the art-historical components of thisproject with my literary analysis. I also thank the faculty and students whoattended my presentation at the University of Chicago Medieval Workshop inDecember 1996.

Edward Foley of the Catholic Theological Union offered advice on litur-gical sources of Saint-Denis. Francis-Nol Thomas introduced me to the foun-dation scholarship of mile Mle and Louis Rau, to medieval Frencharchitecture sur place, and to the Institut dtudes Augustiniennes in Paris. Iam grateful to Jane Vadnal at the University of Pittsburgh for providing mewith the image of the Kneeling Knight in his canopy atop Trinity Chantry inTewkesbury Abbey. I also thank her colleague, Alison Stones, for permissionto reproduce that image in this book.

Special thanks go my colleagues at Claremont McKenna College: AudreyBilger, Steve Davis, Robert Faggen, John Farrell, Judith Merkle, JimMorrison, Jim Nichols, and Nicholas Warner, all of whom read the manu-script in its later stages, offered encouraging comments, and provided helpfulsuggestions for revision. I am also grateful to Connie Bartling and SheriMcCain for assisting with the xeroxing of the final manuscript.

I presented parts of Chapters One and Three at a conference, Plotinus andHis Visions: The Alexandrian Intellectual World in Transition, 26 February1999, which was hosted by Nancy van Deusen of the Claremont GraduateUniversity, the Claremont Consortium for Medieval and Early ModernStudies, and the Institute for Antiquity and Early Christianity. I read parts ofChapters Four and Six to the Medieval Guild Conference at Columbia Univer-sity in 1996.

Projects such as my own could not be completed without the collections of

vii

specialized libraries and the help of librarians. For my research on this book, Iam fortunate to have worked at the Joseph Regenstein Library at the Univer-sity of Chicago, the Newberry Library, the Huntington Library, the Honnoldand Denison libraries of the Claremont Colleges, the libraries of York Minsterand Lincoln Cathedral, the Institute for Historical Research in London, andthe Institut dtudes Augustiniennes in Paris. For help with photographingmedieval funerary monuments and for kind permission to reproduce photo-graphs in this book, I am grateful to the Vicar and Churchwardens of BeverleyMinster, Tewkesbury Abbey, Lincoln Cathedral, and the Chapter of ChesterCathedral, and the Service reproduction of the Bibliothque nationale deFrance.

Finally, I thank my colleagues at Boydell & Brewer, especially DerekBrewer, Caroline Palmer, Vanda Andrews, Pru Harrison and Michael Webb,who have made the process of publishing this book a smooth and gratifyingone for me. The anonymous reader for Boydell & Brewer provided expertsuggestions for revision that guided me in unifying the various disciplinaryareas of my subject and seeing this book through to its completion.

To my mother and father,my sister Patsy,

my brothers Bobby, Godfrey, and Thomas,and Auntie Ann,

for the love that builds Heaven on earth

viii

Acknowledgments

Editorial Note

This book relies extensively on quotations from writers of late antiquity andearly Christianity. In order to achieve a degree of brevity in this wide-rangingstudy, I have selectively omitted original Greek and Latin quotations exceptwhere a particular emphasis upon interpretation is crucial, such as in my closeanalysis in Chapter Three of liturgical texts and commentaries. I haveprovided key Latin terms and phrases, such as those from the Vulgate andfrom Saint Augustines writings, when I thought it especially helpful for clari-fication. All standard Greek and Latin sources are listed in the Bibliography.Unless otherwise noted, biblical quotations in Latin are taken from theVulgate (Biblia Sacra Iuxta Vulgatam Versionem, Stuttgart: DeutscheBibelgesellschaft, 1969). English translations of biblical passages are takenfrom the Douay (Rheims-Douay) Version (Baltimore and New York, JohnMurphy Co., 1899). Full bibliographical references for Augustines Decivitate Dei and Confessiones (abbreviations listed below) are provided in thenotes and Bibliography (Primary Sources). Bibliographical information on allother works by Augustine that I cite in this book may also be found in the Bib-liography (Primary Sources).

ix

Abbreviations

ACW Ancient Christian Writers, ed. J. Quasten and J. C. Plumpe(Westminster, MD.: Newman, 1946)

ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1951)ANCL Ante-Nicene Christian Library: Translations of the Writings of the

Fathers down to AD 325, ed. A. Roberts and J. Donaldson (Edinburgh:T. and T. Clark 196772)

AugStud Augustinian Studies (Villanova: Villanova UP, 1970)CCL Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina (Turnhout: Brepols, 1953)CSEL Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum (Vienna: Tempsky,

1865)civ. Dei Augustine, De civitate Dei (On the City of God), ed. B. Dombart and

A. Kalb, CCL (2 vols). I have used the English translation of thiscritical edition, which appears in R. W. Dyson, trans. and ed., The Cityof God against the Pagans. Cambridge Texts in the History ofPolitical Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1998).

conf. Augustine, Confessiones (Confessions), L. Verheijen, CCL 27.English translations I have consulted include H. Chadwick, TheConfessions (Oxford; New York: Oxford UP, 1991); and R. S.Pine-Coffin, Confessions (New York: Penguin, 1961).

Enn. Plotinus, The Enneads, Plotini Opera, ed. P. Henry and H.-R.Schwyzer (Oxford: Clarendon, 19641982). I use the facing-pageEnglish translation of this edition by A. Hillary Armstrong, Plotinus,in The Loeb Classical Library, 7 vols (Cambridge: Harvard UP,196688).

FC The Fathers of the Church, ed. R. J. Deferrari (Washington: CatholicUP, 1947)

LCC Library of Christian Classics, ed. J. Baillie, J. T. McNeill, and H. P.van Dusen (Philadelphia and London: Westminster P, 195366)

NPNF A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of theChristian Church (Oxford; repr., Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans,1994)

PL Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Latina, ed. J. P. Migne (Paris,184464)

RechAug Recherches Augustiniennes (Paris: tudes Augustiniennes)REtAug Revue des tudes Augustiniennes (Paris: tudes Augustiniennes,

1955)SCM Student Christian Movement: SCM/Canterbury PressSPCK Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge PressVigChr Vigiliae Christianae. A Review of Early Christian Life and Language

(Amsterdam: North-Holland Publishing Co., 1947)WSA The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century, ed.

J. E. Rotelle (New York: New City P, 1990)

x

Introduction

According to the grace of God which is given unto me, as a wisemaster builder, I have laid the foundation, and another buildeththereon. (I Corinthians 3.10)

The foundation of the temple is to be understood mystically.(Bede, De templo 4.1)1

Architecture, allegory, and revelation: these three words communicate in aremarkably wide-ranging and complementary way the artistic, intellectual,and religious cultures of medieval Europe. If one wishes to understand medi-eval beliefs, fears, and aspirations, architecture offers the most commandingvisual sources of discovery. It is also an art form that is unsurpassed in its col-lective powers of expression, including its function as a location for secularand sacred liturgies. Allegory in turn is one of the chief philosophical, reli-gious, and literary modes of medieval expression. From Origen to the sculp-tors of Chartres Cathedral to Dante, medieval theologians and artists choseallegory as the means of expression most effective and most worthy ofcommunicating the relation between the divine world and human experience.Finally, revelation and here I use the term to mean an intimate awareness ofGods presence is the highest spiritual end, the definitive goal of human ex-perience in the medieval world. Revelation is what medieval church architec-ture aspires to and what medieval religious allegory unveils.

This book is an investigation of how these aspects of medieval thought andexpression functioned simultaneously as form, method, and meaning howarchitecture, allegory, and revelation worked together in an effort to representthe New Jerusalem on earth. As a way of usefully limiting this investigation, Ifocus my attention on the architectural approach to divine revelation in themedieval west, including its manifestation in liturgy and literature. This focuscontributes to the tradition of scholarship, especially in the last decade, thathas explored ways in which architecture and architectural motifs in otherareas of medieval studies stand out as among the most pervasive and complexsignifications in medieval culture.

There are many ways of studying these medieval accomplishments. Muchrecent scholarship has focused on technical, sociological, and political ques-tions including, in the last twenty years, a whole range of theoretical perspec-tives that have stimulated discussion on the contexts and meanings of

1

1 D. Hurst, ed., CCL 119A (1969); trans. Sen Connolly, Translated Texts for Historians Series,Vol. 21 (Liverpool: Liverpool UP, 1995).

medieval art and culture. My focus is not meant to counter such approaches, tofit the great variety and complexity of medieval architectural expressions intoa restrictive or all-encompassing structure, or to impose from without artifi-cial formulations. Such approaches have come to be regarded as inadequate,since they risk underestimating the richness of purpose and meaning theseaccomplishments from our distant past offer. I do not, in other words, suggestthat allegory is the only method or that divine revelation the only purpose rele-vant for understanding medieval art and architecture. Rather, by examiningselected works from the disciplines of philosophy, theology, liturgy, architec-ture, and literature, my aim is to direct closer attention to the pervasivenessand complexities of an extraordinary intellectual and cultural achievementand to suggest a method of interdisciplinary research that reaches well beyondsurface relationships between these disciplines.

My use of the term allegory also requires qualification. The word itselfcombines two Greek words: allos (other) and agoreuein (to speak). Thefundamental meaning conveyed by the word allegory (Gr. allegoria), then,is to speak otherwise, to say other things, to say other than that which ismeant (Lat. alia oratio). The single use of the word (as a participle,allgoroumena) in the New Testament appears in Pauls letter to the Galatians(4.24) to designate the relation between the Old and New Covenants. Jerome(c. 347420) translated Pauls text as quae sunt per allegoriam dicta (whichthings are said by an allegory). Other Latin uses of the word and its relatedforms appear in writings of major theologians in the medieval west. Augus-tine (354430), who identifies Saint Paul as his master in the craft andtransformational spirituality of biblical exegesis, cites the passage fromGalatians and glosses it with the phrase, quae sunt aliud ex alio significantia(which things signify one thing by another).2 Isidore of Seville (c. 560636)used the term alieniloquium, the Latin equivalent of the Greek combinationallos + agoreuein (other-speaking), to describe allegory as a grammaticaltechnique. Hugh of St.-Victor (10961141) also used alieniloquium todescribe allegory, since aliud dicitur et aliud significatur (one thing is saidand another thing is signified).

The ancient and medieval writers used allegory and its related verbal andadjectival forms in conjunction with, and often as a substitution for, a wholerange of other terms to designate identical or closely related meanings. Theseterms include hyponoia (under-sense), symbolon (symbol), figura(figure), signum (sign), imago (image), eikon (icon), and aenigma(enigma). It is important to emphasize that in the historical periods I treat inthis book, these terms were not often clearly distinguished from one another inmeaning. To cite one highly influential example in the western medievaltradition, Augustine demonstrates great flexibility in his use of allegoria andfigura in his biblical exegesis, not taking care in a consistent way to distin-

2

Introduction

2 De Trinitate XV 9; see also civ. Dei XV 1819.

guish them from the Pauline terms typos (Lat. figura in I Corinthians 10.6)and typiks (Lat. figura in I Corinthians 10.11) or from similitudo, umbra,sacramentum, mysteria, and imago.3 Jon Whitman cites examples fromHellenic and Hebraic writers: The rhetorician Heraclitus uses both hyponoiaand allegoria to describe his interpretation of Homer. So does the great Jewishexegete Philo, at about the same period, only with reference to the Bible, notHomer.4 That these terms were used indiscriminately among major ancientand medieval writers indicates that for them there was great overlap inmeaning. It is clear, however, that for these writers all of the terms involvethe intention of conveying or constructing meaning.5

In this book I follow the example of the ancient and medieval writers,demonstrating an informed Augustinian flexibility, for example, in my use ofwords like sign, figure, image, and symbol. One additional aspect ofmy own flexibility is that, unlike many of the ancient and medieval writers, Iselectively apply the multiple terms of allegorical language across the disci-plines, so that these terms become part of my discussion not only of thebiblical exegeses of Bede and Augustine, but also in my treatments of medi-eval liturgy, architecture, and poetry.

As is well known, the term allegory has often been used to designate atechnique or system of interpretation. Medieval theologians conceived amulti-leveled system of biblical exegesis, with terms such as typological,tropological, and anagogical serving as specific designations for differentlevels of meaning. Dante famously adapted the allegorical system used by thetheologians for interpretation of his own great poem, La Divina Commedia.My interest in allegory also emphasizes the technique or system of conveying

3

Introduction

3 Cf. Galatians 4.21ff; De utilitate credendi 3.8. See David Dawsons article, Figure, Allegory, inAugustine through the Ages: An Encyclopedia, ed. Allan D. Fitzgerald (Grand Rapids, MI andCambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans, 1999), 366368. Dawson observes, however, that thereare instances when Augustine prefers figura to allegoria: figura . . . preserves the significance ofa historical reality. Allegoria emphasizes the relationship between biblical words and their spiri-tual referents, but omits the intermediate category of physical or historical reality. Nonetheless,as Dawson points out, Augustine is inconsistent in his use of the two terms. See, for example, DeGenesi ad litteram imperfectus liber 2.5; Conf. XXIV.37 and XXV.38.

4 Allegory: The Dynamics of an Ancient and Medieval Technique (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1997),266. My discussion here on the historical background of the term alllegory and related terms isbased primarily on Whitmans study; see especially Appendix I: On the History of the TermAllegory. The following sources have also been especially useful: Michael Murrin, The Veil ofAllegory: Some Notes toward a Theory of Allegorical Rhetoric in the English Renaissance(Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1969); Philip Rollinson, Classical Theories of Allegory and ChristianCulture (Pittsburgh: Duquesne UP: 1981; Brighton, UK: Harvester, 1981). Classic studies onancient and medieval uses of words and concepts designating symbolic meaning, such as meta-phor, allegory, integumentum, and figura include Flix Buffire, Les Mythes dHomre et lapense grecque (Paris: Les Belles lettres, 1956); M. D. Chenu, Nature, Man and Society in theTwelfth Century, trans. Jerome Taylor and L. K. Little (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1968); JeanPpin, Mythe et allgorie: les origines grecques et les contestations judo-chrtiennes (Paris:tudes augustiniennes, 1976); Henri de Lubac, Exgse mdivale: les quatre sens de lcriture, 4vols (Paris: Aubier, 195964); and Winthrop Wetherbee, Platonism and Poetry in the TwelfthCentury: The Literary Influence of the School of Chartres (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1972).

5 Rollinson, Classical Theories, 18.

meaning, but it is also more specific: I focus on how the interpretive techniquefunctions as an epistemological process, how specific philosophical and theo-logical traditions define that process, and how it is manifested as a process as a vehicle of spiritual transformation in medieval liturgy, architecture, andliterature. To clarify my interest even more specifically, I focus on thescreen or veil of allegory itself in order to explore how it is philosophicallyand theologically possible to understand medieval architecture includingarchitectural forms and motifs in liturgy and literature as eschatologicallandscapes and images of apocalyptic revelation.

Finally, my frequent use in this book of the term medieval culture, mayalso require clarification. Here I follow the example of Richard K. Emmerson,who in his essay, The Apocalypse in Medieval Culture, explains that theterm allows for a wide-ranging analysis restricted neither by disciplinarycategories nor by such artificial distinctions as religious/secular or elite/popular. The influence of the Apocalypse in the Middle Ages, Emmersonobserves, is ubiquitous, all pervasive and its imagery is limited neither toreligious texts nor even to Christian settings.6

Visio pacis: Allegory and Johns Vision in the Book of Revelation

The foundational biblical texts for the medieval building of the New Jeru-salem include the description of sacred architecture in the Hebrew Bible especially the desert Tabernacle (Exodus 2540) and Solomons Temple(I Kings 58; cf. Ezekiel 4042) Pauls teachings in the New Testament onallegoresis and, of course, Johns vision of the New Jerusalem in the Book ofRevelation.7

The apocalyptic eschatology of medieval Christianity was driven by a hopeto be reborn after divine Judgment into the eternal presence of a loving God,to become a child of Heaven, a worshipper of the Lamb in the New Jerusalem.The last chapters of the New Testament, chapters 21 and 22 of the Revelationto John, include a prophetic vision of the New Jerusalem and the state of beingof its inhabitants:

et civitatem sanctam Hierusalem novam vidi descendentem de caelo a Deoparatam sicut sponsam ornatam viro suoet audivi vocem magnam de throno dicentemecce tabernaculum Dei cum hominibus et habitabit cum eiset ipsi populus eius erunt et ipse Deus cum eis erit eorum Deuset absterget Deus omnem lacriman ab oculis eorumet mors ultra non erit neque luctus neque clamor neque dolor erit ultra

4

Introduction

6 The Apocalypse in the Middle Ages, ed. Richard K. Emmerson and Bernard McGinn (Ithaca andLondon: Cornell UP, 1992), 29495.

7 For Pauls teachings on allegorical interpretation and on Pauline passages especially relevant forthis study, see, for example, I Cor. 3.2; 3.1017; 10; 16; II Cor. 5.110; Gal. 4.21ff; Eph. 2.1922.

quae prima abieruntet dixit qui sedebat in thronoecce nova facio omniaet dicit scribe quia haec verba fidelissima sunt et vera.

(Revelation 21.25)

[And I John saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out ofheaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard agreat voice from the throne, saying: Behold the tabernacle of God with menand he will dwell with them. And they shall be his people; and God himselfwith them shall be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from theireyes, and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shallbe any more, for the former things are passed away. And he that sat on thethrone, said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said to me: Write, forthese words are most faithful and true.]8

In verse nine of the same chapter an angel speaks to John: veni ostendam tibisponsam uxorem agni (Come, and I will show thee the bride, the wife of theLamb). The angel takes John up in spiritu in montem magnum et altum (inspirit to a great and high mountain) and shows him the New Jerusalemhabentem claritatem Dei (having the glory of God) and lumen eius similelapidi pretioso tamquam lapidi iaspidis sicut cristallum (his light like aprecious stone, as to the jasper stone, even as crystal) (21.911). The versesthat follow describe the citys measurements, its twelve jeweled walls andfoundations, its twelve pearl gates, and in chapter 22, its crystalline river andfruit-laden tree of life.

The exquisite complexity of Johns apocalyptic vision of the New Jeru-salem has encouraged varied interpretations, both symbolic and historical,since it was first compiled and written down sometime in the first century.9

Biblical commentators, drawing on a rich tradition of Jewish and Christianapocalyptic literature, have sought to understand the figurative limits ofJohns account. Some of its interpretive difficulties include, for example, themultiple designations of the New Jerusalem, cited variously as the civitatemsanctam (holy city) (21.2), the tabernaculum Dei (tabernacle of God) (21.3),the throno (throne) of God (21.5), and the sponsam uxorem agni (bride, thewife of the lamb) (21.9). Further, the detailed material descriptions of the NewJerusalem and the apparent imminence of the apocalyptic event tempus enimprope est (for the time is at hand) (1.3), when the New Jerusalem will descendonto a high mountain have challenged believers in their efforts to distin-guish literal from symbolic meanings. Explanations within the text itself like the angels account of the woman sitting upon the scarlet beast with sevenheads and ten horns (17.718) are, in fact, less than helpful, since these

5

Introduction

8 See editorial note for source details.9 For a survey of some of the most influential medieval interpretations of the Book of Revelation,

see the collection of essays and accompanying bibliographies in The Apocalypse in the MiddleAges, ed. Richard K. Emmerson and Bernard McGinn.

explanations lead inevitably to still further questions. Of course, this methodof literary narrative in which questions arise that prompt explanations,which in turn lead to more questions is a common feature of apocalyptic lit-erature.10 As we shall see later in this Introduction, medieval Christianexegetes, like Bede in his commentaries on the Mosaic Tabernacle and onSolomons Temple, viewed the multiple significations that John ascribes tothe New Jerusalem as a genuine experience of divine truth.

The cultural and intellectual achievements of the medieval Christian worldgive prolific evidence of the pervasiveness of this apocalyptic eschatology.Yet, it was the church buildings and their liturgical programs that mostcomprehensively and dramatically manifested a hope for eternal union withGod. After more than six centuries, the extant buildings so many of themhaving survived neglect, corrosion, and various forms of desecration remainamong the worlds most remarkable spectacles of visual and, through theirliturgies, aural splendor. One motivation for this focus in medieval architec-ture and related art forms stemmed in great part from biblical accounts ordescriptions not the least of which was Revelation 2122 of Gods electcommunity, accounts that repeatedly emphasize an inseparable relationshipbetween salvation, sacramental liturgy, and architectural forms. The colors,the textures, the supremely authoritative instructions, the careful designs, theintimate, familiar quality of the vessels for liturgical service, all providednourishment for the medieval imagination in its impressive drive to makemanifest a spiritual world.

The architectural expression of this spirituality and the complementaryliturgical expression played out within the buildings stone surroundings didnot, of course, spring ab ovo in the contemporary world of the Middle Ages.In this Introduction I turn briefly and selectively to important sources of influ-ence from ancient Rome and the Hebrew Bible. In addition, one enduringsubject of scholarship on the medieval period is the debate on the possible in-fluence of Platonic ideas upon the design and symbolic programs of medievalchurch architecture.11 Earlier in the last century, art historians working withina scholarly tradition whose representatives included Erwin Panofsky and Ottovon Simson argued that the great churches of the medieval period were visualmanifestations of Platonic ideas mingled with Christian beliefs.12 Influential

6

Introduction

10 The thirteenth-century Queste del Saint Graal demonstrates this technique well. Knights fromArthurs court in search of the Holy Grail seek guidance from helpful hermits, whose explana-tions of their mysterious adventures send them (and readers) on their way with only more ques-tions. Albert Pauphilet, ed. (Paris: Librarie Honor Champion, 1984); trans. P. M. Matarasso(London and New York: Penguin, 1969).

11 Throughout this study I use the terms Platonism and Platonist in a broad sense to refercomprehensively to the larger tradition that includes figures, like Plotinus, whom many modernscholars refer to as neoplatonists. Plotinus himself looked to Plato as the chief philosophicsource of his own ideas, and he called himself not a neoplatonist but a Platonist. The termneoplatonism can be misleading since it does not distinguish any particular development ofPlatos philosophy among many, both pagan and Christian.

12 Erwin Panofsky, ed. and trans., Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of St.-Denis and its Art Trea-

as this thesis was to a generation of art historians, it was too general in itspresentation and lacked sufficient practical or technical evidence to support it.

Scholars have continued, however, to study philosophical and theologicaltraditions that can inform us of both the conception and the interpretation ofmedieval church architecture. Nigel Hiscock, for example, in his recent studyoffers compelling evidence to support a reconsideration of Platonic philo-sophical traditions in studies not only of the design and symbolic programs ofmedieval church architecture, but also of the relations between architectureand other medieval art forms.13 His study of medieval number theory, geom-etry, and architecture leads persuasively to the conclusion that the applica-tion of geometry to architectural design was an expression of metaphysicalbeliefs and . . . these [beliefs] were fundamentally Platonic in content.14

Complementing Hiscocks work, musicologists provide liturgical evidencefor the Platonic influence on the symbolic meanings of medieval churches.Margot Fassler, for example, has studied Augustinian reform and thetwelfth-century liturgy at the Abbey of St.-Victor in Paris. Anne WaltersRobertson gives evidence for the influence of Pseudo-Dionysius writings onmedieval liturgy at the Royal Abbey of St.-Denis just outside of Paris.15 Theseprominent examples of Platonically informed liturgies can only be fullyunderstood, of course, in terms of Christian salvation history. One clear litur-gical confirmation of the apocalyptic and eschatological components of thathistory, and a subject to which I devote a chapter of this book, is the medievalliturgy for the dedication of a Christian church.

These examples of scholarly directions in the last decade or so on medievalarchitectural history and musicology support a premise of my own study: themedieval conception of the church building as a symbol of the New Jerusalemwas informed and strengthened by a Christian adaptation of Platonic teach-ings on the symbol. The most sophisticated tradition of Platonism that iscentral to this adaptation is, I argue, represented in the writings of Plotinus(204/5270). It is my contention, as well, that medieval liturgy facilitated theappropriation of Platonic thought by providing both a textual and a visualmeans for the builders and worshipers to qualify the Platonic symbol in termsof Christian faith.

In Part I of this study I provide a philosophical and theological foundationfor my analysis of liturgy, architecture, and literature in the later chapters. InChapter One, the philosophical focus is Plotinus masterful reworking of pre-

7

Introduction

sures, 2nd edn by Gerda Panofsky-Soergel (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1979). Otto von Simson, TheGothic Cathedral: Origins of Gothic Architecture and the Medieval Concept of Order, 2nd edn(Princeton: Princeton UP, 1962).

13 The Wise Master Builder: Platonic Geometry in Plans of Medieval Abbeys and Cathedrals(Aldershot, UK and Brookfield, VT: Ashgate, 2000), 39.

14 Ibid. 39.15 Fassler, Gothic Song: Victorine Sequences and Augustinian Reform in Twelfth-Century Paris

(Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1993); Robertson, The Service Books of the Royal Abbey ofSaint-Denis: Images of Ritual and Music in the Middle Ages (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991).

vious Hellenic ideas on art and the sensible world. Plotinus teachings,collected and edited by his disciple Porphyry under the title Enneads, havereceived too little attention in studies of western medieval traditions; yet, theyare the most important source for an understanding of Augustines Platonism.Augustine (354430), the chief figure in the transmission of Platonism to themedieval Christian west, learned from Plotinus how cognition of the sensoryworld moves the soul to recognize and return to its spiritual source. Plotinusteachings are, therefore, vital to an understanding of how Platonism wasappropriated by medieval Christians in the conception and symbolic interpre-tation of their church buildings. To further an understanding of medievalefforts to represent the New Jerusalem on earth, I begin this study, therefore,by returning to the main source of Augustines Platonism, the writings ofPlotinus.

Saint Augustine is the vital link between Plotinian metaphysics andwestern Christianity. In Chapter Two, I focus on Augustines transformationof Plotinus sacramental view of the cosmos. Augustines mature teachings inDe civitate Dei receive my primary attention, since it is in this work thatAugustine presents the most extensive theological foundation for the medi-eval representation of the New Jerusalem. As influential as Plotinus philo-sophical system was on Augustines understanding of the relations betweenthe invisible, sacred realm and the temporal, visible realm, it was nonethelessinadequate for Augustine the Christian theologian. Central to Augustinestheology is a clear concept of Church, or a community of the faithful, whosemembers are full participants in the Christian drama of salvation history.Plotinus system, by contrast, does not rely upon a concept of religiouscommunity, always on pilgrimage to a desired apocalyptic end. Augustinetransforms the elaborate Plotinian journey of the soul to include an identifi-cation of the human being as a citizen of either one of two cities: the City ofBabylon or the City of God. The Church on earth serves as a sacramental sign,carrying out Christs incarnational mission.

Plotinian and Augustinian teachings on the symbol provide a philosophicaland theological foundation for later medieval liturgical, architectural, and lit-erary achievements that identify ecclesiastical buildings not only as sacredspaces, but more specifically as earthy representations of the New Jerusalem.Part II of this book treats liturgical and architectural contributions to the medi-eval effort to build Heaven on earth. In Chapter Three, I turn to an importantapplication of this tradition: the thirteenth-century liturgy for the feast of thededication of the Royal Abbey of St.-Denis near Paris. This liturgy is a care-fully crafted work of literary and dramatic art that serves to manifest its chiefpurpose as a model of applied theology. The prayers, readings, objects,images, ritual gestures, and processions all work together to identify thechurch building as an eschatological and apocalyptic landscape.

The medieval liturgy at St.-Denis is an especially appropriate one toexamine in this context. Abbot Sugers famous writings on the twelfth-century rebuilding of this church, which include a commentary on its

8

Introduction

dedication liturgy, remain important documents for our understanding ofSt.-Denis formative role in the development of the Gothic style.16 In addition,even if Sugers writings do not reveal, as scholars have argued, a specialized,scholarly application of Dionysian Platonism such as we find in the writingsof his monastic colleagues at the Abbey of St.-Victor in Paris, they do demon-strate his familiarity with the liturgy celebrated in his church.17 This famil-iarity is especially evident in Sugers comments on the dedication liturgyitself.18

My interest in medieval representations of the New Jerusalem led me to astudy of private chapels, which were an especially prevalent architecturalgenre in the later centuries of western medieval Europe. These miniaturechurches, most often built within existing churches, took formal if notequivalent functional inspiration from the royal chapels built in theIle-de-France and in London. In England, a whole architectural sub-genrearose the chantry chapels, where Masses for the souls of the dead were sungor chanted. The chapels were the specific locations in which worshiperspracticed a distinct form of eschatology. Yet, the chapels and their accompa-nying spiritual components have been largely neglected in studies of architec-tural history and the literature of divine revelation.

The chantry movement in England, which I treat in Chapter Four, remaineda dominant strain of Christian piety until the religious reforms carried outunder Henry VIII (14911547) and Edward VI (154753). With the reforms,the chantry institutions were suppressed, and most of the chapels weredismantled or destroyed. As a result, little visual evidence exists today of thechantry movements widespread popularity in late medieval England. Thiswidespread loss of visual evidence of the architectural past partly explainswhy the chantry movement has received so little scholarly attention.19 Whatneeds to be more widely recognized, however, is that this movement repre-sents a unique stage in the evolving medieval view of how the living and thedeparted faithful enter into the sacred community of the Celestial City.

An outstanding exception to the near disappearance of the chantry move-ments architectural expression survives in the Decorated choir of Tewkes-bury Abbey in Gloucestershire, England. In Chapter Four I examineTewkesbury Abbeys three stunning chantry chapels, two built in thefourteenth century, and one in the fifteenth century. The chapels were theprivate, miniature churches of the abbeys medieval patrons, the Despensers,whose tombs are housed in them. Along with other superbly constructedfunerary monuments, the chapels are clustered around the high altar, facing a

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Introduction

16 Liber de rebus in administratione sua gestis; Libellus alter de consecratione ecclesi sanctidionysii, Ordinatio A.D. MCXL vel MCXLI confirmata, in Panofsky, Abbot Suger, 40137.

17 The First Ordinary of the Royal Abbey of St.-Denis in France, Paris, Bibliothque Mazarine 526(Fribourg, Switzerland: Fribourg UP, 1990).

18 Libellus alter de consecratione ecclesi sancti dionysii, in Panofsky, Abbot Suger.19 A general account of the chantry movement was introduced in 1947 by G. H. Cook, Medieval

Chantries and Chantry Chapels, rev. edn (London: Phoenix House, 1963).

fourteenth-century east window that depicts the Despensers standing along-side biblical figures at the Last Judgment. Directly overhead is a brightlypainted liern vault, whose intricate crossings resemble the patterns of a greatrose window. These architectural, iconographic, and decorative featuresidentify the church as a late medieval apocalyptic and eschatological land-scape. Not only does the Tewkesbury choir depend in part upon the earlierarchitectural innovations at St.-Denis, it also provides, I argue, an unusuallyspecific link with a late medieval literary tradition.

This book concludes where my interest in the relations between medievalarchitecture, allegory, and revelation began to take shape: the philosophicaland liturgical contexts of the late fourteenth-century English poem Pearl andits three companion poems, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Patience, andCleanness (or Purity). Since their earliest editions were published in the nine-teenth century, these poems, which are written in a north Midlands dialect andexist in a single manuscript (British Museum MS. Cotton Nero A. x), haveinspired a large body of scholarship. Most details about their creation,however, remain obscure. Overlooked by literary medievalists as a culturalforce associated with the creation of these poems is the all but vanished artand spirituality of the chantry movement.

This association is revealed especially in Pearl, the main focus of Part III.A masterfully crafted dream vision, Pearl describes the spiritual progress of aman grieving over the death of a beloved young daughter. Near the end of thepoem, just before the dreamer awakens, he is granted a vision of the NewJerusalem that is modeled closely on the vision of John in the Book of Revela-tion. The poem, I argue, is a uniquely stunning and sophisticated literaryexample of the architectural approach to divine revelation in the medievalwest. Its author attempted to push the boundaries of literature beyond thespoken and the written word, to move literature aggressively into the realm ofthe visual, the liturgical, and the architectural. Pearl is a work of ecclesiasticalarchitecture in literary form. Specifically, it is a remarkable attempt to give lit-erary expression to the chantry movement, including its specialized architec-tural component. In Pearl, poetry becomes a readers private New Jerusalem.The other three poems of the manuscript provide further evidence of theseassociations.20 Taken together, this special collection of fourteenth-centuryalliterative poems reveals the authors immersion in the spirituality and archi-tectural environment of the chantry movement, drawing yet another area ofhuman endeavor into the medieval world of architecture, allegory, and revela-tion.21

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Introduction

20 The fourteenth-century alliterative poem St. Erkenwald (British Library MS. Harley 2250 fols72v25v) also demonstrates close association with the chantry movement. I include discussion ofthe poem in Chapter Six.

21 My study of the chantry movement, its manifestation at Tewkesbury Abbey and in the literary artof the Pearl poet, uncovers specific political contexts that helped shape late medieval apocalypticeschatology in England. In a recent article, I provide evidence that links the author of Pearl withthe Despensers of Tewkesbury Abbey and with the court of Richard II, placing this poet and at

Architecture and Allegory: Vitruvius, Virgil, and Bede

The complex relations between medieval architecture, allegory, and revela-tion may be usefully introduced by the writings of two Romans of classicalantiquity and by the exegesis of Bede, the eighth-century Northumbrian monkand scholar, on the sacred architecture of the Hebrew Bible. The Romanauthors, both motivated by the leadership of Augustus (63 BCE14 CE),produced texts that have become fundamental to our historical understandingof architecture and allegory: Vitruvius De architectura and Virgils Aeneid.Bedes commentaries on the Mosaic Tabernacle (Exodus 2540) and Solo-mons Temple (I Kings 58) initiated a rich medieval tradition of allegoricalinterpretations of the ancient Hebrew structures. When examined together,these writings of Vitruvius, Virgil, and Bede provide a conceptual way ofentry into a vast and complex cultural achievement: the architectural approachto divine revelation in the medieval west.

The Roman Authors

After Octavian defeated Marc Antony at Actium in 31 BCE, the victoriousprinceps, soon to take the sacral title of Augustus, engaged the talents andambitions of artists and public officials to restore Rome politically and cultur-ally. During the subsequent period of Roman peace, restoration, and creativity a period historians refer to as the Pax Augusta (or Pax Romana) Octaviansought to create a new world order. He wished to show the Roman Empirethat peace and prosperity were the hallmarks of his reign, not civil wars,which had plagued the Roman world for more than two decades. Among themost powerful means Octavian used to convey these ideas were the public artsof architecture and literature.22

Vitruvius (born c. 80/70 BCE) wrote his treatise De architectura libridecem (Ten Books On Architecture) during the first decade of the PaxAugusta (c. 3020 BCE).23 He had been a staff architect under Octaviansadoptive father, Julius Caesar, and under Octavian, Vitruvius received acommoda, or stipend, which allowed him time to study and write. His comple-tion of De architectura, which he dedicated to Octavian, may have helpedsecure him a position as an architect on the cura aquarum, the system of

11

Introduction

least one of the alliterative masterpieces of the late English Middle Ages more firmly in a specificsocial and political context. See Ann R. Meyer, The Despensers and the Gawain Poet: AGloucestershire Link to the Alliterative Master of the Northwest Midlands, Chaucer Review 35(2001): 413429.

22 P. Zanker, The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus, trans. A. Shapiro (Ann Arbor: U of Mich-igan P, 1988), esp. ch. 3; D. Favro, The Urban Image of Augustan Rome (Cambridge: CambridgeUP, 1996), 110111.

23 Frank Granger, ed. and trans., Vitruvius On Architecture, 2 vols. Loeb Classical Library 25(Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1970). For the most recent translation, see Ingrid D. Rowland,Vitruvius: Ten Books on Architecture (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1999).

Roman aqueducts.24 In his preface to Book IV, Vitruvius takes fond credit forbeing the first author to set out (producere) in a systematic, coherent way thediscipline of architecture in its full order (disciplinae corpus ad perfectemordinationem). It remains the only complete treatise on architecture thatsurvives from classical antiquity.

Vitruvius work, perhaps conservative in its architectural vision comparedwith the forms that emerged in the subsequent century, is a foundation text fora scholarly understanding of architectural history in the western world.25 Itsinfluence in classical antiquity and the Middle Ages was limited, butaccording to one architectural historian, a judgment that reflects scholarlyconsensus, the whole literature on architectural theory from the Renaissanceonwards has been based on Vitruvius or on a dialogue with his ideas.26

The vibrant political and cultural environment in which Vitruvius workedalso witnessed the great flowering of Augustan poetry, whose chief represen-tative is Virgil (7019 BCE). According to one familiar tradition of interpreta-tion, Virgils epic poem, the Aeneid, is a literary monument to the glory andpromise of Romes rebirth under Octavians leadership. In Book VI Aeneas,led by the Sybil-prophetess at Cumae and with golden bough in hand, jour-neys to the underworld, to the world of the dead and yet unborn. He meets theshade of his father, Anchises, who shows him the Elysian fields, a place ofpeace enveloped with its own light and reserved for souls judged to have livedvirtuously on earth. Anchises reveals to Aeneas the spiritual composition ofthe universe and the progress of human souls from death through purgation torebirth. These mysteries are disclosed to Aeneas through images specific tohis identity and to the nation he is to found. He views a pageant of Romanheroes his own descendants and learns of the divinely ordained destiny ofRome to rule the world. In Virgils poetry, the golden age of Augustus is oneof the most formidable glories of that destiny:

Hic vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti saepius audis,Augustus Caesar, divi genus, aurea condetSaecula qui rursus Latio regnata per arvaSaturno quondam, super et Garamantas et IndosProferet imperium; jacet extra sidera tellus,Extra anni solisque vias, ubi caelifer AtlasAxem umero torrquet stellis ardentibus aptum. (79197)

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Introduction

24 L. Callebat, ed., Vitruve de lArchitecture (Paris: Les Belles lettres, 1973), ixx.25 See, for example, Rowland, 1113 and Hanno-Walter Kruft, A History of Architectural Theory

From Vitruvius to the Present, trans. Ronald Taylor, Elsie Callander and Antony Wood (NewYork: Princeton Architectural P, 1994), 2029. Krufts work was originally published under thetitle Geschichte der Architekturtheorie: Von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart (Munich: Verlag C. H.Beck, 1985).

26 Kruft points out that one plausible example of Vitruvian influence on a medieval building is theOttonian architecture of St Michaels, Holdesheim (31).

[This, this is the man, whom often you hear is to be promised to you,Augustus Caesar, the offspring of a god, who again shall build up thegolden age in Latium, through lands once ruled by Saturn, and shallextend his empire over the Garamantes and Indians; their land liesbeyond the stars, beyond the yearly course of the sun, whereheaven-bearing Atlas on his shoulder turns the heavens studded withburning stars.]27

Book VI of the Aeneid, the pivotal center of the poem, is a book of prophecyand revelation where the mysteries of life, death, and rebirth are unveiled toAeneas. Whereas his time of love with Dido, Queen of Carthage, is a time soheightened by unseen forces that the advance of human civilization issuspended, Aeneas journey to the underworld is a moment out of time when abeloved father discloses to his son the meaning of past, present, and future.

Coinciding with the Pax Augusta in Rome was another revealed prophecy:the birth of Christ in Judea (76 BCE).28 Medieval Christians in the westviewed this historical correlation not as mere coincidence but as a sign ofdivine Providence. Their allegiance to papal Rome found justification in theview that the princeps of the Christian church was the rightful, correctivesuccessor to the ancient Roman emperors. Further, the extraordinary influ-ence that Virgils poetry had on medieval literature was a result, in part, of thehistorical association between the Pax Augusta and the birth of Christ. In hisFourth Eclogue, Virgil wrote verses that foretell the birth of a male child aleader and savior. Medieval Christians interpreted these verses as a prophecyof Christs birth. Hence, the medieval west embraced the pagan Virgil as aprophet in the Hebrew tradition, setting him in company with David andIsaiah.29

To defend Virgils poetry against its own pagan roots, medieval Christiansapplied to it the same interpretive methods they used to read the HebrewBible. Allegory transformed Hebrew scripture into the Christian Old Testa-ment, a preparation for the fulfillment of the Old Law through Christ and hisChurch. Virgils Fourth Eclogue and the Aeneid thus became among the mostfrequently allegorized works of secular literature in the Middle Ages. Whilethe eclogue was interpreted as a prophecy of Christs coming, medievalcommentaries interpret Aeneas journey from Troy to Italy as an allegory ofthe souls ascent to divine truth.30 In the fourteenth century, Dante bestowed

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Introduction

27 Translation mine.28 In the sixth century a Roman monk known as Dennis the Short calculated the birth of Christ to

have occurred in 754 of the Roman era (ab urbe condita [AUC] from the founding of the city ofRome), which is generally fixed in terms of the Christian era at 753 BCE. Dennis estimate hasbeen proven to be inaccurate; modern scholars set the birth date of Jesus at about 6 BCE). See, forexample, the article, Reckoning Time, The New English Bible (New York: Oxford UP, 1976),3537.

29 Domenico Comparetti, Vergil in the Middle Ages, trans. E. F. M. Benecke (Princeton: PrincetonUP, 1997), I, ch. VII, esp. pp. 1023.

30 Bernardus Silvestris and Fulgentius produced two of the major medieval commentaries in thistradition. See The Commentary on the First Six Books of the Aeneid of Vergil Commonly Attrib-

upon Virgil the high honor of being the chief philosophical and literary guidefor his own Christian literary monument:

Or va, chun sol volere dambedue:Tu duca, tu segnore e tu maestro.

[Now on, for a single will is in us both; you are my leader, you mymaster and my teacher.]31

For Dante the golden age of Augustus prefigured and prepared the world forthe golden age of Christianity when Christ lived on earth and revealed to thefaithful Gods mercy and His promise of eternal salvation. Virgil walks in thedarkness of pre-Christian antiquity, but he carries the lantern that Dantefollows. Virgil provides the light of poetry that prepares Dante for his revela-tion of Christian mysteries.

Vitruvius De architectura did not achieve the exalted status that Virgilspoetry did in the medieval west. It was not until the Renaissance thatVitruvius treatise was widely read, interpreted, and immortalized in thebuildings constructed by humanist architects.32 Yet, while Vitruvius medi-eval influence may not have been greatly distinguished architecturally, hisideas may be recognized in other forms of medieval artistic and intellectualexpression, in ways not unlike those that helped validate the pagan origins ofVirgils poetry. For example, in his treatise Vitruvius endorses architecture asa liberal art. He insists that the professional architect be a lifelong student,as Vitruvius himself was, of the encyclos disciplina, the liberal arts, includinghistory, philosophy, music, and above all, letters (I.3.11). If the architect is toconstruct the ideal monument, the summum templum architecturae (the loft-iest sanctuary of architecture), he must be a master both in fabrica (craft ortechnical skill) and in ratiocinatione (theory or reasoning) (I.1.1).33

It is not only a result, however, of his broad education in the liberal arts thatVitruvius ideal architect achieves the summum templum architecturae. Inaddition, and more fundamentally, such a creation may be achieved because,in Vitruvius view, natures forms mirror cosmic designs. The architectswork is, ideally, an image of the architecture of the universe. In Book IXVitruvius equates the laws that govern the cosmos and the planets with therules of architecture:

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Introduction

uted to Bernardus Silvestris, ed. J. W. and E. F. Jones (Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1977), trans. EarlG. Schreiber and Thomas E. Maresca (Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1979); Fabius PlanciadesFulgentius, Expositio virgilianae continentiae secondum philosophos moralis, Opera, ed.Rudolphos Helm (Leipzig: Teubner, 1898); trans. Leslie George Whitbread, Fulgentius theMythographer (Columbus: Ohio State UP, 1971). For a discussion of the history of allegoricalinterpretation of the Aeneid from antiquity through the Renaissance, see Michael M. Murrin, TheAllegorical Epic: Essays in its Decline and Fall (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1980).

31 La Divina Commedia, Inferno II (13940); The Divine Comedy; Inferno, trans. Charles S.Singleton, Bollingen Series LXXX (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1970).

32 Kruft, 3040.33 Trans. Rowland.

Mundus autem est omnium naturae rerum conceptio summa caelumquesideribus conformatum. Id volvitur continenter circum terram atque mareper axis cardines extremos. Namque in his locis naturalis potestas itaarchitecta est conlocavitque cardines tamquam centra. (2)

[Now the cosmos is the all-encompassing system of everything in nature,and also the firmament, which is formed of the constellations and the coursesof the stars. This revolves ceaselessly around the earth and sea at the extremehinges of the axis. For thus the power of nature has acted as architect, and shehas placed the hinges as central axes.]34

An architects summum templum architecturae is, then, a mirror of thecosmos itself. Vitruvius never explicitly states this analogy; nor does heinclude its tempting interpretive correlations: the corresponding analogies ofGod as architect and, in turn, the human architect as imitator of God. Nonethe-less, his identification of cosmic laws with the rules of architecture and hisdesignation of nature as architect of the universe prepared later readers tomake these extended associations for themselves. Indeed, these mirroredparallels between divine or cosmic creation and human artistry becamefamiliar features of medieval aesthetic theory.35

The aspects of Vitruvius thought that endow the architect and his workwith absolute or ideal values also contribute to the treatises status as a hybridgenre.36 De architectura is, of course, a technical handbook, but it also has lit-erary and philosophical dimensions.37 Indeed, it may be possible to discoverVitruvian influence if not primarily in medieval architecture in medievalliterature, philosophy, and related disciplines. Stefan Schuler has recentlyshown, for example, how the physical location of Vitruvius work in a medi-eval library reveals much about the reception of that works ideas how thework, in other words, was thought to be useful. Interestingly, a ninth-centuryinventory at Reichenau shows that Vitruvius treatise was first placed withworks by the church fathers; later it appears with related arts such as geometryand astrology.38

The treatise, in its reception and status as a hybrid work, combineselements of literature and rhetoric with philosophy and the mechanical arts,giving scholars fresh insight into one fundamental feature of medieval artisticand intellectual culture: the boundaries between the medieval disciplines of

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Introduction

34 Trans. Rowland.35 Kruft, 24, 453 nn. 6773.36 Rowland, 1.37 Ibid.38 Vitruv im Mittelalter: Die Reziption von De architectura von der Antike bis in die frhe Neuzeit

(Cologne, Weimar, and Vienna: Bhlau, 1999), 114. Schuler also argues that Vitruvius ideas weretransmitted to the Middle Ages and to the Renaissance through Vincent of Beauvais Speculummaius. It was through Vincents encyclopedia that Vitruvius became a widely diffused source ofknowledge for the practice of a mechanical art (8). Cited in a review of Schulers book byChristine Smith, Speculum 76, no. 3 (July 2001): 79091.

learning and human expression were remarkably fluid and dynamic. Architec-ture, together with its related arts, gives special credibility to this fluidity.

Sacred Architecture of the Hebrew Bible and the Exegesis of Bede

One area of study that reflects this dynamic relationship between architectureand other forms of medieval artistic and intellectual expression is the traditionof medieval biblical commentary. Biblical exegesis is also a hybrid genre,uniting the disciplines of literary criticism and philosophical inquiry withtheology. Allegorical expositions of biblical architecture may even provideevidence of Vitruvian influence and of the overall development and transmis-sion of architectural theory during the medieval period. One source of suchdiscovery may be found in the rich tradition of medieval exegesis on theMosaic Tabernacle (Exodus 2540) and Solomons Temple (I Kings 58).Modern scholarship credits the Venerable Bede (673735) with initiating in anotably ambitious way this exegetical tradition. Nor is it surprising that Bededid so, given the interest he displays in architecture and allegory throughouthis writings.

Of related interest are intriguing historical links between Bedes monasticcareer and the manuscript tradition of Vitruvius treatise on architecture. Theoldest extant manuscript of De architectura, now in the British MuseumLibrary (Harleian 2767), dates from the eighth century. Its provenance isuncertain, but one familiar line of argument cites evidence that the treatisewas carried by Abbot Ceolfrith (or Ceolfrid), a mentor to Bede, from Italy tothe joint monastic communities at Wearmouth-Jarrow, England, where Bedespent his life as a monk and scholar.39 Here Vitruvius treatise would havebeen copied, read, and circulated. Although we have no direct evidence thatBede read the treatise, we know that Alcuin (735804), Bedes youngermonastic neighbor and intellectual colleague, did. Alcuin refers to Vitruviustext twice in his writings.40 Like Bede, Alcuin was an Anglo-Saxon monk andbrilliant scholar from Northumbia. Born in the year Bede died, Alcuin becamethe most distinguished student and (later) master at the monastery school inYork, which had inherited Bedes works. Under Alcuins direction the schoolbecame one of the most celebrated centers of learning in late eighth-centuryEurope. Its brilliance was recognized by Charlemagne, who commissionedAlcuin as the intellectual leader of what we now refer to as the CarolingianRenaissance.

Alcuin may very well have come into contact with De architectura throughthe close ties that existed between his monastic school at York and Bedes

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Introduction

39 J. D. A. Ogilvy, Books Known to the English, 5971066 (Cambridge, MA: Mediaeval Academy ofAmerica, 1967), 260261; Ogilvy, Books Known to Anglo-Latin Writers from Aldhelm to Alcuin(670804) (Cambridge, MA: The Mediaeval Academy of America, 1936), 90; L. W. Jones hasargued against the Wearmouth-Jarrow attribution of BM. Harleian 2767; see Jones, The Proveni-ence of the London Vitruvius, Speculum 7 (1932): 64.

40 See Ogilvy, 1967, 26061.

scriptorium at Wearmouth-Jarrow. Further investigation is necessary, ofcourse, on the question of Bedes possible exposure to Vitruvius treatise, butan important point here is that the two authors are bound by a shared adher-ence to a single principle of interpretation, one that Vitruvius also encouragesin Book I of his treatise:

Cum in omnibus enim rebus, tum maxime etiam in architectura haec duoinsunt, quod significatur et quod significat. (I.1.3)

[In all things, but especially in architecture, there are two inherentcategories: the signified and the signifier.]

Bedes exegesis of biblical architecture elaborates upon the kinds of analogiesVitruvius makes between cosmic creation and human artistry.41 In hiscommentaries De tabernaculo (c. 72125) and De templo (c. 72931) (on theExodus Tabernacle and Solomons Temple respectively) Bede embraces aChristian allegorical method to lead the reader from the ancient Hebrewformulations to contemplation of the New Jerusalem.42 These commentariesare the first in the medieval tradition to provide complete allegorical interpre-tations of the sacred Hebrew structures, and they exemplify the Northumbrianscholars exceptionally architectural approach to Revelation.43 As such,these commentaries together with their biblical subjects serve as a fitting tran-sition from this introductory discussion of ancient concepts of architectureand allegory to an examination in the chapters that follow on how Christianbuildings in the medieval west were understood as great symbols of the NewJerusalem.

The church of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople was the architectural jewelof medieval Byzantium. Its construction and partial reconstruction werecarried out during the reign of Justinian (52765), who took special pride inits technical and ornamental splendors. At the churchs consecration cer-emony in 537, the emperor, reveling in the achievement, attributed to himself

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Introduction

41 Rowland points out that Vitruvius use of the terms signified and signifier is derived fromEpicurean philosophy, referring to the necessity of beginning all scientific investigations with aclear definition of terms. Vitruvius used these terms specifically to mark the difference betweenthat which one speaks about (quod significatur), here a building, and the system of rational exposi-tion one employs in interpreting it (quod significat). My suggestion here is that Bede anticipatedmodern critics by interpreting Vitruvius phrase, quod significatur as the passive work of archi-tecture itself and quod significat as the meaning it actively expresses (135). See also ArthurG. Holder, trans. Bede: On the Tabernacle, Translated Texts for Historians, vol. 18 (Philadelphia:U of Pennsylvania P, 1994), xv.

42 De tabernaculo, ed. D. Hurst, CCL, 119A (1969), trans. Holder, Bede: On the Tabernacle; Detemplo, ed. D. Hurst, CCL, 119A (1969), trans. Sen Connolly, Bede: On the Temple, TranslatedTexts for Historians Series, Vol. 21 (Liverpool, Liverpool UP, 1995).

43 On Bedes architectural approach to Revelation, see Charles W. Jones, Some IntroductoryRemarks on Bedes Commentary on Genesis, Sacris Erudi 19 (196970): 11598. Quoted inHolder, xv.

even greater success than that of the earthly architect of Yahwehs Temple:Solomon, he is reputed to have claimed, I have surpassed thee.44

Justinians sense of material achievement, immodest as it may have been,highlights a fundamental aspect of the medieval view of sacred architecture.Solomons Temple in Jerusalem and its original model, the Mosaic Taber-nacle described in Exodus, are the supreme sacred places of ancient Hebrewworship. Of even greater importance to medieval Christians is the biblicalauthority that identifies these edifices as earthly sanctuaries constructed byhuman hands, but whose design, function, and contents were dictated by God.Yahweh is the true architect, the divine genius behind it all. As a result, theTabernacle and the Temple are works of architecture that necessarily requireparticular reverence from Christians, who, in accordance with New Testamentteachings, view the human body itself as a temple of the Holy Spirit, as theearthly fulfillment of Old Testament sacred architecture. One passage thatdemonstrates well a Christian reworking of the traditional Hebrew imagesoccurs in Pauls first letter to the Corinthians:

secundum gratiam Dei quae data est mihiut sapiens architectus fundamentum posuialius autem superaedificatunusquisque autem videat quomodo superaedificetfundamentum enim aliud nemo potest ponerepraeter id quod positumest qui est Christus Iesus. . .si quis autem templum Dei violaveritdisperdet illum Deustemplum enim Dei sanctum est quod estis vos.

(I Corinthians 3.1017)

[According to the grace of God that is given to me, as a wise architect,I have laid the foundation; and another buildeth thereon. But let everyman take heed how he buildeth thereupon. For other foundation noman can lay, but that which is laid; which is Christ Jesus . . . But if anyman violate the temple of God: him shall God destroy. For the templeof God is holy, which you are.]

Of course, the ancient Hebrew buildings are no longer extant and can only beknown through their biblical descriptions. For medieval Christians, thisapparent limitation posed no difficulties of belief or understanding quite thecontrary; the buildings uniquely scriptural existence ascribes to them an evenhigher sacred status than their earthly survival would have done. The sacred

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Introduction

44 It has been argued recently that the Justinian building with its first dome corresponded in thedimensions of its plan and height to the traditional proportions of Solomons Temple, in which theratio of length to width and of width to height was 3:1 and 1:15. On this subject, see Kruft, 32.

architecture of the ancient Hebrews exists in the minds eye alone, beyondwhat is merely visible. It exists in the realm of faith.

In Exodus, chapters 2535, Yahweh instructs Moses on the design, func-tion, and contents of a portable tent, a tabernacle that is to be constructed andcarried by the Israelites in their desert wanderings. The structure is to serve asa sanctuary, a place of rest and worship. It will contain objects made from thefinest and most precious of earthly materials, such as linen and gold. Itsdeepest and most sacred chamber, the Holy of Holies, will be separated fromother chambers by a veil, behind which will be kept the Ark of the Covenant,the representation of Gods testimony to His people. The Tabernacle in itsentirety will establish Gods presence among them: Yahweh says to Moses,facientque mihi sanctuarium et habitabo in medio eorum (And they shallmake me a sanctuary, and I will dwell in the midst of them) (Exodus 25.8). Inreturn, Gods people will obey and worship Him. The Tabernacle will be a siteof liturgical ritual and sacrifice, a place where the human longing for peaceand communication with God finds fulfillment. This longing is simply andeloquently expressed by the Psalmist:

Domine quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuoaut quis requiescet in monte sancto tuo. (Psalm 14.1)

[Lord, who shall dwell in thy tabernacle? Or who shall rest in thy holyhill?]

This longing for a home with Yahweh is to be partially appeased by theportable nature of the Tabernacle. Gods house will not be static; it moveswith the ancient Israelites in their exile. It communicates, therefore, Yahwehsavailability to His people and His choice to make His home with them. TheTabernacle is a place where they can be assured of encountering divinity.

Solomons Temple, like the Exodus Tabernacle, is a place of mutualcontact between God and His people. Here Yahweh descends; here worship-pers find refuge. The great theophany upon Mount Sinai was the necessaryimpetus for Moses mission, and that mission included the intent to move onfrom Sinai and wander in exile with Yahweh. The Temple of Jerusalem, strik-ingly similar to the Tabernacle in its function, design, and contents, was builton the summit of Mount Sion, a location that also recalls Yahwehs revelationto Moses on Sinai. Yet the Temple is meant to be a place of actual physicalstability, of even more pronounced, concentrated rest and worship afterIsraels exilic wanderings. It is here, in the Jerusalem Temple, that Yahwehmakes his permanent home:

quoniam elegit Dominus Sionelegit eam in habitationem sibihaec requies mea in saeculum saeculi. (Psalm 131.1314)

[For the Lord hath chosen Sion/ he hath chosen it for his dwelling./This is my rest for ever and ever.]

19

Introduction

Yahweh chooses Solomon whose name means man of peace as Templearchitect. The word for Temple itself becomes synonymous with its specificgeographical location, Sion and Jerusalem city:

Magnus Dominus et laudabilis nimis in civitatae Deinostri in monte sancto eiusfundatur exultatione universae terrae montes Sionlatera aquilonis civitas regis magni. . .sicut audivimus sic vidimusin civitate Domini virtutumin civitate Dei nostriDeus fundavit eam in aeternumsuscepimus Deus misericordiam tuamin medio templi tui. (Psalm 47.23, 910)

[Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised in the city of our God,in his holy mountain./ With the joy of the whole earth is mount Sionfounded, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King/. . ./ As wehave heard, so have we seen, in the city of the Lord of hosts, in the cityof our God: God hath founded it for ever./ We have received thymercy, O God, in the midst of thy temple.]

Graven images of the deity are forbidden, but Yahweh insists that His pres-ence be represented architecturally. The Tabernacle and the Temple are thedesignated places built by human hands under Gods guidance so that Godspeople can experience His presence physically as well as spiritually. Thisassociation between a specific, enclosed space and liturgical worship is notonly validated by, but is a requirement of, the covenant between God and Hispeople.

Bede, in his commentaries on these works of ancient Hebrew architecture,adheres to a complex system of symbolic interpretation. Pauls teachingexplains in deceptively simple terms a fundamental concept of how this inter-pretive method works in reference to Old Testament events and images:

haec autem omnia in figura contingebant illis. scripta sunt autem adcorreptionem nostram in quos fines saeculorum devenerunt.

(I Corinthians 10.11)

[Now all these things happened to them in figure: and they are written in ourcorrection, upon whom the ends of the world are come.]

Bede quotes this passage from I Corinthians at the beginning of Detabernaculo, but his particular working out of a complex interpretive systemwas also inspired by Christian allegorists such as Origen, Ambrose, Augus-tine, and Gregory the Great. For them, like Bede, the sacred Hebrew struc-tures signify a whole host of New Testament realities: the incarnate Christ, theindividual soul, the community of the Church on earth, the Heavenly City.The desert Tabernacle and the Jerusalem Temple, apart from their status as

20

Introduction

historical, divinely commissioned works of architecture, are also among themost powerfully symbolic images ever created by human hands, since theyare associated with almost the whole of Christian salvation history, fromMoses theophany on Sinai to the descent of the New Jerusalem at the end oftime.

All of these meanings Bede attributed simultaneously to the ancientHebrew structures. This simultaneity is a natural compromise that resultsfrom the orthodox understanding that all significations of God are inadequate,and that Gods presence cannot be contained. Here it strikes me that theportable nature of the desert Tabernacle, emphasizing Gods constant avail-ability and communication with His people despite the geographical insta-bility of the Israelites and the contrasting material permanence of theJerusalem Temple, may have been viewed by Bede as two complementaryaspects of the divine presence on earth: God is both ubiquitous and eternallypresent.

For Bede it is also true that no actual material building could function asGods house on earth. In his writings, at least, he never interprets allegoricallya non-literary building. He does take the literal sense of the Old Testamentarchitecture seriously, fully exploiting the architectural components andbuilding materials, but always for metaphoric purposes. For Bede, the veilbefore the Holy of Holies (Exodus 26.3137) is the veil of allegory, a veil thatboth reveals and conceals the true signification of the ancient Hebrew struc-tures, which for Bede is the Christian revelation. Even while advancing hismost enthusiastic allegorical flourishes, and despite his remarkably architec-tural approach to Revelation,45 Bede had Isaiahs censoring voice at his ear:haec dicit Dominus caelum sedis mea et terra scabillum pedum meorum quaeista domus quam aedificabitis mihi (Thus saith the Lord: Heaven is my throne,and earth my footstool: what is this house that you will build me?)(Isaiah 66.1).46 Christians themselves are, after all, the living stones andpillars of the Church and, therefore, of any material church no matter howsplendid, including Justinians Hagia Sophia.

This is where my project departs from Bedes exegetical convictions. Mypurpose in this study is to examine a medieval interpretation of ecclesiasticalarchitecture that chose rather to acknowledge the anagogical potential ofmaterial objects: the notion that actual churches were understood as earthlyrepresentations of the New Jerusalem, and a notion that was encouraged to asignificant degree through images, liturgy, and the design of the architecturalspaces themselves.

21

Introduction

45 Charles W. Jones, Some Introductory Remarks, quoted in Holder, xv.46 New Testament passages that build upon this quotation from Isaiah include Acts 17.24 (God, who

made the world, and all things therein; he being Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in templesmade with hands) and II Cor. 5.1 (For we know, if our earthly house of habitation be dissolved,that we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in heaven). See also Heb.9.1112, 24; Heb. 12.22; and Heb. 13.14.

Of course, there was great variety in the ways this concept was expressed,differences that depended, for example, on geography, social and politicalinfluences, revenues, and the developments of architectural styles tomention just a few possibilities. Bernard of Clairvauxs vehement (andfamous) reproach of his Benedictine colleague, Abbot Suger, calls attention toone fundamental source for differences in expression. Bernard accused theabbot of vulgarity and theological irresponsibility in his supervision of thetwelfth-century rebuilding of St.-Denis. Whereas Suger seems to have takenliterally the descriptions in the Book of Revelation of a lavishly ornamentedNew Jerusalem, for Bernard of Clairvaux, the unembellished beauty that wastypical of twelfth-century Cistercian churches was the appropriate setting forliving a spiritual life and representing divine reality.47

The austere spirituality exemplified by the Cistercian architectural tradi-tion, and for which there is strong biblical precedent in such figures as theprophet Isaiah and Stephen the proto-martyr,48 is a spirituality that has alwayscensored the other branch of the human spirit: the love of the beauty of thephysical world. Sugers interpretation of his new church is a famous medievalexpression of this spirit: it reflects the abbots passion for rich ornamentation,yet it is a passion that was qualified, as well, by a theological consciousness.

Vitruvius intellectual apprehension of architecture,49 Virgils philo-sophical allegory, and Bedes biblical exegesis of sacred Hebrew architectureall contributed to the interpretation of medieval churches as complex symbolsof the New Jerusalem. In the chapters that follow, I discuss other contribu-tions to and versions of this concept, some as formative influences, others aslate developments, but I present them in a more historical and genericallywide-ranging, detailed way. While each chapter focuses on a different domainof medieval culture, an especially vital point of convergence among them isthe prayer and ritual of medieval liturgy, for it is through liturgical worshipthat theology, architecture, and poetry unite in the Christian expression ofhope for eternal salvation. As Jean Leclercq eloquently expressed it, the medi-eval liturgy was the synthesis of all the artes:

it is in the atmosphere of the liturgy and amid the poems composed for it, inhymnis et canticis, that the synthesis of all the artes was effected, of theliterary techniques, religious reflection, and all sources of informationwhether biblical, patristic, or classical. . . . In the liturgy, love of learning anddesire for God find perfect reconciliation. (25051)50

22

Introduction

47 For recent studies of medieval Cistercian architecture, see Terryl N. Kinder, Architecture ofSilence: Cistercian Abbeys of France, photographs by David Heald (New York: Harry N. Abrams,2000); Megan Cassidy-Welch, Monastic Spaces and their Meanings: Thirteenth-Century EnglishCistercian Monasteries (Turnhout: Brepols, 2001).

48 See, for example, Stephens speech of disapproval before his martyrdom (Acts 7.4750). Here herebukes the council for their misunderstanding of the Christian revelation, especially as it appliesto interpretation of the Old Testament.

49 Kruft, 24.50 The Love of Learning and the Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture, trans. Catherine

Leclercqs wonderfully penetrating observation lacks only the articulatedawareness of how liturgy and medieval church architecture were conceived asreciprocal expressions of one another. To see that the medieval church was themost comprehensive of the artes of technique and religious reflection is to seeit as a supremely sacred place that served primarily as the stage for liturgicaldrama.

23

Introduction

Misrahi (New York: Fordham UP, 1982), 236. Originally published as LAmour des lettres et ledsire de Dieu: Initiation aux auteurs monastiques du moyen ge (Paris: Cerf, 1957).

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Part I

Philosophical and Theological Foundations

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Plotinus Screen of Beauty

1

Foundations I: Plotinus Screen of Beauty

[T]o those who object . . . [to the idea that] Hellenic philosophyis human wisdom, that it is incapable of teaching the truth . . .have not read what is said by Solomon; for, treating of theconstruction of the temple, he says expressly, And it wasWisdom as artificer that framed it; and Thy providence, Father,governs throughout. And how irrational to regard philosophyas inferior to architecture and shipbuilding.

(Clement of Alexandria, Stromateis VI.11)1

Early Christian-Platonism: Introductory Remarks

THE influence of Platonism on the artistic culture of the medieval westremains a subject to which scholars return with renewed interest.2 Studiesby musicologists within the last decade, for example, examine relationshipsbetween medieval liturgy and architecture and have opened up new lines ofinquiry on how Christian-Platonism was displayed aurally and visually.3

Nigel Hiscocks recent scholarship intends to re-open the enquiry andengage once more in the debate about the symbolic content of medievalgeometry and its possible role in medieval plan design.4 Hiscocks studyuncovers new evidence for how medieval architects used Platonic teachingsin the planning and design of church buildings. Although the presence andinfluence of Platonism are well enough attested, Hiscock argues, insuffi-cient weight seems to be given to it in much of the literature that challenges aPlatonic connection with architectural design.5

27

1 W. Wilson, trans. Stromata, in ANCL 12 (1869).2 For my use of the terms Platonism and Platonist see the Introduction, 6 n. 11.3 See, for example, Anne Walters Robertson, Service Books; and Margot Fassler, Gothic Song.4 The Wise Master Builder, 17.5 Chalcidius Latin translation of and commentary on Platos Timaeus was available to early medi-

eval scholars. Parts of the Timaeus were translated by Cicero, to reappear in MacrobiusCommentarii in Ciceronis Somnium Scipionis. The Summarium librorum Platonis is a thir-teenth-century (Latin) partial synopsis of Platos works. It is also thought to be a copy of an earlyCarolingian codex from Corbie Abbey in France, based on a Latin translation of a second-centuryGreek text. On the subject of the availability of Platos texts in the Middle Ages, see Ramond

With few exceptions, studies of Platonism in the medieval west haveconcentrated primarily on prominent Christian representatives of this tradi-tion, including Clement of Alexandria (c. 150c. 215), Origen (c. 185254),Gregory of Nyssa (c. 33295), Augustine (354430), Pseudo-Dionysius(c. 500), John Scotus Eriugena (c. 81077), and the twelfth-century theolo-gians of the Abbey of St.-Victor in Paris, especially Hugh (10961141) andRichard (d. 1173). Among these figures, scholars have recognized the chiefrole of Augustine in the transmission of Platonism to the Christian west.Through his great literary output and extensive readership in western Chris-tendom, Augustine became the primary channel of Platonism to the medievalwest; he is also the main figure responsible for securing the acceptance ofChristian-Platonism by the medieval Latin Church.

Crucial to Augustines education and to his formulation of a Christiantheology were quosdam platonicorum libros (certain books of thePlatonists) that he read in Milan in the late 380s.6 The Platonici with whichAugustine was familiar included the Latin translations by Marius Victorinusof writings by Porphyry (234?301?) and Plotinus (204/5270), and probablyCiceros Latin translation of Platos Timaeus. The names of Plato, Porphyry,and Plotinus all figure prominently in Augustines great work, De civitateDei, but among the chief Greek Platonists, Augustine judged Plotinus philos-ophy as superior to the rest.7

In 1962 David Knowles remarked upon the general scholarly neglect ofPlotinus influence upon later medieval philosophy in western Europe.Plotinus greatness and his importance as a thinker, wrote Knowles, areeven now not widely understood. The legacy of what is loosely calledNeoplatonism, has been widely recognized, but what has not been so fullygrasped is the influence of . . . Plotinus himself upon those who were to be thesources of Western philosophy.8 Knowles hoped to counter what he saw asan avoidance of Plotinus among scholars of the western tradition by empha-

28

Medieval Allegory and the Building of the New Jerusalem

Klibansky, The Continuity of the Platonic Tradition During the Middle Ages, Supplement, PlatosParmenides in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance: A Chapter in the History of Platonic Studies(Munich: Kraus International Publications, 1981), esp. 67, 512.

6 Conf. VIIX, XVI; VIII.2.3.7 De consensu Evangelistarum 1.22.35; civ. Dei I.22; VIIIXII; Augustine probably knew Platos

Phaedo, Phaedrus, and the Republic through encyclopedias and doxographies. The questionssurrounding Augustines familiarity with and use of Platonic sources continue to fascinatescholars. For an introduction to the subject, see A. H. Armstrong, Plotinian and Christian Studies(London: Variorum Reprints, 1979); P. F. Beatrice, Quosdam Platonicorum Libros: the PlatonicReadings of Augustine in Milan, Vigiliae Christianae 43 (1998): 24881; Stephen Menn,Augustinian Wisdom, Part One of Descartes and Augustine (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1998),77; R. H. Nash, Some Philosophic Sources of Augustines Illumination Theory, AugStud 2(1971): 4766; R. OConnell, Saint Augustines Platonism (Philadelphia: Villanova UP, 1984); F.Van Fleteren, The Ascent of the Soul in the Augustinian Tradition, in Paradigms in MedievalThought Applications in Medieval Disciplines: A Symposium, ed. N. Van Deusen, MedievalStudies, vol. 3 (Lewiston: Edwin Mellen Press, 1991), 93110; Van Fleteren, Plato, Platonism,Augustine through the Ages, 65154.

8 The Evolution of Medieval Thought, 2nd edn. Ed. D. E. Luscombe and C. N. L. Brooke (Londonand New York: Longman, 1988), 278.

sizing Augustines enormous debt to him: if a reader of Augustine is in doubtas to the origin of a particular philosophical idea, he will usually find theanswer in Plotinus.9

Reasons for the neglect of Plotinus influence by scholars of western medi-eval traditions have included the presumption that his writings are too early tobe relevant for studies of later medieval philosophic, theological, or artisticformulations. Further, although Plotinus metaphysics represents a carefulsynthesis and refinement of the Greek philosophic traditions that he inherited,the literary style of the writings seems more suited according to somereaders to lyric poetry than to philosophic discourse. The charismaticobscurity of Plotinus expression stems in part from his favored use ofcomplex paradoxes, highly concentrated metaphors, and enjambment.10 Inaddition, Plotinus writings do not give clear evidence that he was familiarwith Christianity, and so scholars have been careful not to rely too heavilyupon them for an understanding of early Christian-Platonism, especially in thewest.11

Although Knowles made his comments over forty years ago, it is onlyrecently that a scholarly consensus has emerged that identifies Plotinus as thechief influence upon Augustines Platonism.12 It was primarily in Plotinusthat Augustine found a sophisticated and richly nuanced metaphysical worldview, one that deeply appealed to his ever-questioning intellect. In its coher-ence as a