Emile Male's book aids understanding of medieval art and medieval symbolism, and of the vision of the world which presided over the building of the French cathedrals. It looks at French religious art in the Middle Ages, its forms, and especially the Eastern sources of sculptural iconography used in the cathedrals of France. Fully illustrated with many footnotes it acts as a useful guide for the student of Western culture.
Émile Mâle was a French art historian, one of the first to study medieval, mostly sacral French art and the influence of Eastern European iconography thereon. He was a member of the Académie française, and a director of the Académie de France à Rome.
Should it be reassuring that I used, years ago, the same book that Proust carried with him when he set himself to follow Ruskin's trail on Gothic architecture?
My Professor on the subject was also a Ruskinian and often began his lectures quoting his writings.
I have to rescue this book from storage and read it again.
Victor Hugo, who was no slouch himself when it came to big-ass churches as the settings for great stories, once wrote: "In the Middle Ages, men had no great thought that they did not write down in stone." That pretty much sums up Mâle's work, an exhaustive and endlessly fascinating exploration of the porches, facades, windows, and walls of some of France's most famous Gothic churches. Using the frame of the work of Vincent de Beauvais (I'm a name-droppin' mofo today), Mâle approaches the gothic church as a place where familiar stories, symmetries, and formulas were etched, whether Biblical, Apocryphal or, since saints were once seen as far preferable to kings as far as the value of their contribution to mankind, saints. There is so much to wonder at and puzzle over, you could feast on Mâle for days. Proust did and if you read "La Recherche" you'll see evidence of the structure-as-palimpsest and more. Really, just an outstanding example of how the world used to view itself as a symbolism for something more, far removed from the banal insufficiences of our present arts.
Illustrated Edition, Translated by Dora Nussey from the third French edition, published in 1913; 1958
Pros: tons of information packed into 400 pages, goes over all the main sources and stories depicted on French Gothic cathedrals, lots of great illustrations
Cons: can be dry in parts, occasionally expresses prejudices
I read this in university for one of my Medieval Studies courses and was lucky enough to find a used edition. The book is now out of copyright and can be read for free via Archive.org (available in black and white and with off white pages) https://archive.org/details/cu3192402... OR https://archive.org/details/religious... - Always download the pdf version of old books. The ebook version tends to get messy when there are page headings and footnotes and become difficult if not impossible to read).
Though old, this is still one of the best studies of 13th Century French cathedral art and its interpretation written. In contract to some of his contemporaries and predecessors, M. Male attempted to explain the figures in sculpture and stained glass using texts produced by the middle ages. By doing so, he clarifies and corrects several misinterpretations of characters and stories.
He writes the book using the organizational style taken from Vincent de Beauvais’ Speculum Maius (The Great Mirror), which explained how everything from history to nature was a type for Christ and spiritual things. It is separated into four parts: the mirror of nature, the mirror of instruction (or doctrine), the mirror of morals, and the mirror of history. The final book is further subdivided by Male into the Old Testament, the Gospels, Apocryphal stories, Saints, secular history, and the end of times. Through these categories, the whole of the cathedrals is laid bare for the reader.
Male assumes a familiarity with the stories of the Bible, though he does detail the stories enough that even those unfamiliar with it should be able to follow along. The wealth of information contained here is incredible, and if you go in not knowing Bible characters or Christian saints, you’ll leave knowing a lot about them.
There are a lot of great illustrations and photos, though their placement leaves a little to be desired, as you sometimes have to flip ahead or backwards to find the photo of what he’s talking about.
The book mentions some of the renovations that had been done by his time and lamented the damage done to the monuments in the past during the iconoclasm and French Revolution, but of course he had no way to anticipate the even worse damages to come with World War II and acid rain. So the book preserves some images of things that were already gone by his time (he reproduces some illustrations from older works) and that are now gone or reproduced today. In a few instances the names he attributes to people aren’t what they’re deemed now, either due to more research or to misinformation. In a few other instances, he has information about windows and sculptures that no longer exist (as with two black windows in Chartres that he attributes to particular saints).
The book can be a bit dry and academic at times, but it’s worth pushing through those parts. And if you’re worried you won’t be able to, skip ahead to the chapter on the Saints and the one on the end of the world, as both were fascinating.
The author on a few occasions expressed some of his own prejudices against peoples of the past. These aren’t obvious, but there are a couple of disparaging remarks (I specifically remember one about Ethiopia and one about India).
My other complaint is that he references books that still haven’t been translated into English, meaning if you don’t read Latin you have no way of reading these works yourself. I’d dearly love to read some of his sources, especially the Speculum Maius, Glossa Ordinaria by Walafrid Strabo, the sermons of Honorius of Autun, Traditiones Teratologiques by Berger de Xivrey, and more. Perhaps because of this, there are a few places where Male quotes an ancient text and it’s left in the original language with no footnote telling you what it means.
Despite the age of the book and the few complaints, it really is an amazing book and highly recommended for anyone interested in art history, the middle ages, and saints.
In medieval Europe, cathedrals sought teach faith and contemplation of the divine. The essence of these cathedrals were a glorious experience to people of the Middle Ages. Gothic architecture reflected a love for light and geometry, while also reflecting a deep reverence for the beauty of logic and order.
In the cathedrals, the stained glass windows allowed the light to shine through the interior as if it arrayed the walls with exquisite stones of all colors. The construction of these sacred works were intended to serve God first and foremost, and as the medieval craftsmen devoted their determination, and genius, cathedrals achieved the unsurpassable beauty of God’s nature.
The rose window, a symbol of divine perfection and eternity, also remained a mystery; it was a symbol of eternity and perfection.
In praise of nature, every living creature was represented and given a place in cathedrals because it was the work of God. Flora seemed to be curving upwards on the capitals of the columns. The cathedrals of the Gothic age were constructions of faith, conviction, and knowledge. They celebrated the history and creation of the universe from beginning to end. Upon entrance in the portal, Christ sat enthroned in the Last Judgement, to remind visitors of what awaited them. The damned souls, who were suffering in the flames of Hell, in eternal anguish, served as a reminder that the pilgrims remain good and pious, so that the Kingdom of Heaven would be theirs. They found themselves enraptured in the gracious and celestial beauty of the divine. All their sins were forgiven and all their fears were forgotten as they escaped from the wretched, dark, material world, forgetting all earthly riches.
Here are several passages from the book:
"The medieval artist was neither a rebel, nor a "thinker," nor a precursor of the Revolution. To interest the public in his work it is no longer necessary to present him in such a light. It is enough to show him as he really was, simple, modest and sincere. This conception of him is more pleasing to the modern mind. He was the docile interpreter of great ideas which it took all his genius to comprehend. Invention was rarely permitted to him. The Church left little more than pieces of pure decoration to his individual fancy, but in them his creative power had free play and he wove a garland of all living things to adorn the house of God. Plants, animals, all those beautiful creatures that waken curiosity and tenderness in the soul of the child and of the simple, there grew under his fingers. Through them the cathedral became a living thing, a gigantic tree full of birds and flowers, less like a work of man than of nature."
"Conviction and faith pervade the cathedral from end to end. Even the modern man receives a deep impression of serenity, little as he is willing to submit himself to its influence."
"There his doubts and theories may be forgotten for a time. Seen from afar, the church with her transepts, spires and towers seems like a mighty ship about to sail on a long voyage. The whole city might embark with confidence on her massive decks."
"As he draws near her he first meets the figure of the Christ, as every man born into the world meets Him on his voyage through life. He is the key to the riddle of life. Round Him is written the answer to all men's questionings. The Christian is told how the world began and how it will end; and the statues which symbolize the different ages of the world measure for him its duration. Before his eyes are all the men whose history it is of importance he should know. These are they who under the Old or the New Law were types of Christ, for only in so far as they participate in the nature of the Savior do men live...."
"On entering the cathedral it is the sublimity of the great vertical lines which first affects his soul. The nave at Amiens gives an inevitable sense of purification, for by its very beauty the great church acts as a sacrament. Here again it is an image of the world. The cathedral like the plain or the forest has atmosphere and perfume, splendor, and twilight, and gloom. The great rose-window behind which sinks the western sun, seems in the evening hours to be the sun itself about to vanish at the edge of a marvelous forest. But this is a transfigured world, where light shines more brightly and where shadows have more mystery than in the world of fact. Already he feels himself in the heart of the heavenly Jerusalem, and tastes the profound peace of the city of the future. The storm of life breaks on the walls of the sanctuary, and is heard merely as a distant rumbling. Here indeed is the indestructible ark against which the winds shall not prevail. No place in the world fills men with a deeper feeling of security."
"How much more vividly must this have been felt by the men of the Middle Ages. To them the cathedral was the sum of revelation. In it all the arts combined, speech, music, the living drama of the Mysteries and the mute drama of sculpture. But it was something more than art, it was the white light before its division by the prism into multiple rays. Man, cramped by his social class or his trade, his nature disintegrated by his daily work and life, there renewed the sense of the unity of his being and regained equilibrium and harmony. The crowd assembled for the great festivals felt itself to be a living whole, and became the mystical body of Christ, its soul passing into His soul. The faithful were humanity, the cathedral was the world, and the spirit of God filled both man and all creation. St. Paul's words were realized, and in God men lived and moved and had their being. Something of this was dimly felt by men of the Middle Ages when on a glorious Christmas or Easter-day, standing shoulder to shoulder, the whole city filled the immense church."
"Symbol of faith, the cathedral was also a symbol of love. All men labored there. The peasants offered their all, the work of their strong arms. They pulled carts, and carried stones on their shoulders with the good will of the giant-saint Christopher. The burgess gave his silver, the baron his land, and the artist his genius. The vitality which radiates from these immortal works is the outcome of the collaboration of all the living forces of France for more than two hundred years. The dead too were associated with the living, for the church was paved with tombstones, and past generations with joined hands continued to pray in the old church where past and present are united in one and the same feeling of love. The cathedral was the city's consciousness...."
"In the thirteenth century, rich and poor alike had the same artistic delights. There was not on the one hand the people, on the other a class of so-called connoisseurs. The church was the home of all, and art translated the thought of all. And so while art of the sixteenth or seventeenth century tells us little of the deeper thought of the France of that day, thirteenth-century art on the contrary gives full expression to a civilization, to an epoch in history. The medieval cathedral takes the place of books."
"It is not only the genius of Christianity which is revealed, but the genius of France. It is true that the ideas which took visible form in the churches did not belong to France alone but were the common patrimony of Catholic Europe. Yet France is recognized in her passion for the universal. She alone knew how to make the cathedral an image of the world, a summary of history, a mirror of the moral life. Again, the admirable order as of a supreme law which she imposed on that multitude of ideas is peculiar to France. The cathedrals of other countries, all later than the French, do not reveal so wide a range of ideas or so finely ordered a scheme of thought. There is nothing in Italy, Spain, Germany of England which can compare with Chartres. Nowhere else can be found such wealth of thought. When shall we understand that in the domain of art France has accomplished nothing greater?"
I think that I can probably now say that I’ve read this book in its entirety; even if my achievement has actually been spread over a number of stages over a number of years. I have been betrayed by my inadequate attention span for this subject, and not by the author.
Emile Mäle’s book is actually really very good; providing that the reader possesses a healthy sense of curiosity and a tenacious interest in the subject. Knowledge distilled; knowledge disseminated. However, the delicious meat of the Preface and two introductory chapters can lead the unwary reader into a bedazzled sense of confidence. Can medieval iconography really be this illuminating, this much fun?
Each chapter beyond those introductory chapters acts like a stock cube of acute observation and concentrated wisdom. A simple dictate of survival forces the reader to slow down, assimilate, and ponder upon what is read: The Mirror (reflection) of Nature, The Mirror of Instruction, The Mirror of Morals, the Mirror of History. The visual representation of Christianity and the power of the Roman Catholic Church of the thirteenth century.
Or, “How to read the rocks” by studying the ecclesiastical stonework and painting around you. I don’t mean passive reading for the purpose of gaining a sense of the narrative and picturesque. Instead this is visual reading for the inward learning and appreciation dogma and power, and in whose hands that power is/was vested: and don’t you forget it!
173 drawings and photographic illustrations are informatively embedded into the text. The index of works of Art at the back of the book make this volume a good choice for anyone on a holiday or study tour visiting the castles, churches and cathedrals of France.
Mäle’s book celebrates its centenary next year (2013). Do not be lulled into dismissing it; for it is terrifically relevant to our present day; as our Western Society slips backwards into an age of revival of visual communication, where popular mass culture unhesitatingly embraces the visual language of film, TV, and YouTube, in preference the written word; the poor literacy of schoolchildren is merely sighed over, and the secular word ‘democracy’ is invoked to mean all things to all mankind (inclusive). …. not really so dissimilar to the message of the medieval Church.
This was really interesting though rather outside my day to day life. Most of the churches in my life are 19th century or newer and almost exclusively American. Though whenever I do get to France I'll probably be more prepared to visit cathedrals.
Best part of this book? The overall idea that unless there's actual written medieval support for why art reflects something then it's probably just speculation. Which works out to some scenes or stories are illustrated according to strict rules but other ones let the artists exercise their creativity.
Biggest complaint though, considering this is a translation from French they could've translated the Latin too. Maybe I'm not the intended audience but help me out here.
And I really do look forward to seeing France in person, you know, some day.
A fascinating "how-to" for interpreting Catholic iconography from its glory days. It's the kind of knowledge that the hero of a Dan Brown novel would know (or, if you prefer, it's like a nonfiction source book for an Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum). You'll learn why certain things are carved into cathedrals. They're almost like encyclopedias of all the important knowledge of a 13th century Christian.
This is not an easy read, but one that someone who's interested in art history or Catholic history could probably get into. It inspired me to look into more legends from the 13th century, especially The Golden Legend.
This book is over a hundred years old, and over a hundred years' worth of medieval scholarship have revealed things about the Middle Ages that would not have been known in Emile Mâle's day. Still, this was a good book, packed with information and illustrations that help us to understand how people lived and thought in the 13th century. (It was amusing to juxtapose Mâle's opinion of the 13th century with that of John Boswell, who I was reading at the same time. Mâle saw it as a golden age of civilization. Boswell saw it as the beginning of a long dark age.)
A masterpiece. More than a detailed overview of the art and Gothic cathedrals of medieval France, it is a spiritual journey into the genius of Christianity and its all-encompassing vision of reality.