Unless you belonged to a religious minority, the Christianity that prevailed in late medieval Europe might offer badly needed comfort. Life was brutal. Plague had wiped out up to half the population in the mid-14th century. Infant mortality was high. Accident and illness kept most people from reaching old age. Bad weather could mean crop failure and starvation.
But such uncertainty was limited to the earthly, temporal world. In the spiritual realm, God was in charge, the Pope was His spokesman, and the Roman Church offered beliefs and rituals guaranteed to (eventually) provide a blissful eternity in heaven. You might not understand how all this worked, but God’s representatives on earth did, from the Pope on down to your parish priest. There were regular experiences of faith, both individually and communally, that for many carried enormous significance and generated profound comfort and joy.
Consider these words by the anonymous 14th-century author of The Cloud of Unknowing:“God will sometimes work in your spirit all by Himself….Then perhaps he may touch you with a ray of His divine light which will pierce the cloud of unknowing between you and Him. He will let you glimpse something of the ineffable secrets of His divine wisdom and your affection will seem on fire with His love. I am at a loss to say more, for the experience is beyond words.”
So although these centuries were plenty grim, daily life was also shot through with light and color and beauty. Beauty in cathedrals, altarpieces, and stained-glass windows, in music such as that written by Hildegarde of Bingen and Perotin, and in books written and illustrated by hand. Look at this page from the Rutland Psalter, made in England around 1260. The text is painstakingly elegant, the illustration brightly colored. That’s the Biblical King David playing the organ. Look at the guy to David’s right, who’s working the bellows with his bare feet. Note that you can see his underpants.
Get used to it. The margins of the Rutland Psalter feature all sorts of illustrations. Underpants are a big theme. (Was there an early version of strip poker, played with chess: Every time your opponent took one of your men, you had to remove an article of clothing?) There are scenes of fighting reminiscent of The Three Stooges or Bevis and Butthead. Fanciful creatures. Butts—lots of butts.
Along with all the beauty, then, we find playfulness and, well, smut. These pictures were drawn in the margin of a divinely inspired text—the Psalms. Maybe these juxtapositions tell us something about the mindsets of these people: All of life happens in one book, one world. So what’s sacred and what’s silly—well, sometimes they might blur.
