Green men are figures or heads that were carved in churches, abbeys and cathedrals from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries. Inspired by the illustrations in book margins where heads were used to terminate trails of foliage, they were usually carved in the form of human masks, cats' or demons' heads. The earliest architectural green men are found in the churches of the wealthy and influential, such as Henry I's private chapel in Derbyshire but they were still produced in lesser numbers into the nineteenth century. Richard Hayman discusses the origins and definitions of these fascinating figures and traces their many declines and revivals throughout history - a valuable guide for any church history enthusiast.
A very good brief look at architectural Green Men found in medieval and later churches. Plenty of colour photographs accompany the text which does nothing if not encourage further exploration of these strange and sometimes disturbing creations. Although the author tries to disassociate them from the mythology of the Green Man, even reading this book makes me think that there does seem to be some kind of link.
A solid overview of the Green Man in church architecture. Like many, I had assumed that the Green Man was an old Pagan motif, adapted for Christian architecture in the early days of the Church in Britain - this assumption is wrong, with heads and masks sprouting foliage likely deriving from the decorative illustrations of religious texts from the 10th to 12th Centuries. Nature and greenery, it is explained, has a history of both good and evil connotations in Christianity, evoking life and vitality as well as wildness and immorality; these themes were adapted in Norman churches, whose patrons ordered their construction based on the decorative illustrations they had seen in books - the designs largely evoked sinfulness and vice, intended as part of a wider symbolic meaning imbued within the architecture of churches. With the coming of the Reformation, any potential idolatry was considered dangerous and unwanted, largely sidelining the visual culture of churches and the Green Man with it, with architectural details becoming merely decorative, without a moral meaning or message. The book itself is well written, concise and features an excellent array of full colour illustrations.
This book is worth owning for the lavish illustrations alone, but the text is illuminating too. The meanings of the Green Man iconography are explored, if only partly explained, but the development and changes in the icon from its medieval origins through the Renaissance, the Reformation and Victorian Revival are well documented. A short, interesting read.
Great pictures, good history, and good presentation of what the green men might have meant. I enjoyed learning about them, though I doubt many others would. If you happen to be interested in green men however, this is a good introduction that lists many of the churches green men can been seen and where, which is helpful. It also lists other readings you could try to learn even more. I think this was plenty for me however.