Saturday 19 October 2013

Urban Drama, Part 13

Rixus, Praxis and Texts 

in Late Medieval Drama


Like a parable in the Gospels, the entrance of the three shepherds—the two fathers-of-a-family and the young boy Daw their servant—are social types who interact in a relatively small space in a relatively short time.  But the details of their domestic arrangements,m work experience, and relationship to one another spell out a more relaistic, almost fictional of the world they inhabit than are found in the moral narratives used in sermons.  If it were not in rhyming verse, their speech would come closer to a short story than an exemplary tale. 

But what constitutes realism in a narrative tale, a work of art?  This certainly isn’t a matter of the artist (whoever it is that composed the script or that was called in later to adjust it to current circumstances, to keep it up-to-date for the audiences who would gather at Corpus Christi time to participate in the festival at Wakefield or Townley or wherever the production could be afforded and felt necessary) ; since the mirror on reality or the window into the concerns of the city fathers and the ordinary citizens is neither inadvertent nor an unconscious reflection of what shapes their use of traditional tropes, motifs and icons.  Rather, the immediacy of the language and allusion to persons, places and events in the locale is of the essence, and yet serves as the physical grounds of the mythical world always waiting for salvation and the rebirth each year of its Christian savior.  Thus it is not a symptomatic performance, an example of what Gombrich called (disparagingly when critical of Aby Warburg’s studies of Renaissance culture and the long afterlife of symbols) physionomism.[i]  In paintings of the Jesus and his family in the manger in Bethlehem on Christmas Eve, the structures of the building, the decor and attendant characters, animal as well as human, as well as the costumes and other props, all attest the very opposite of an attempt to reproduce an historically or geographically accurate scene from Israel in the early years of the first century of the Common Era.  Not only are these features recognizable to the an original audience—the landscape, the architecture, the seasonal atmosphere—but specific persons are recognizable, patrons, authorities, and what we would call « characters », including often the painter himself tucked into a corner and peering into the domestic circle of the Holy Family and the adoring shepherds.

There is a collaboration, to be sure, but not that of an artistic with aesthetic skills and intellectual knwoledge of his antecedents in the long history of European culture from the classical period through the Christian era and his rich, powerful patrons, influential ecclesiastics who seek to at once impose their own tastes and political interests through the commissioned work and to ensure a decent, proper interpretation of sacred history for the spectators—from the most lowly, illiterate to the most aristocratic, educated—to see and larn, find comfort in, and be uplifted to spiritual ideals.  The ruling guilds distribute the pageant performances to the individual corporate groups of craftsmen, merchants associations and parish organizations, some years having to approve of two or more guilds joining forces, switching topics, and hiring outside expertise to ensure continuity, coherence and proper standards are kept to.  But there are other strange, secret and unconscious motives at work too.  On the one hand, as we know from the small subversively satirical figures to be found carved into niches and out-of-the-way corners of church design, the workmen themselves—or women, who were key players in the building and designing of cathedrals and other structures in the day-to-day industry—c reating a counter-text or anti-text of iconography, from caricatures of the great patrons and lords to self-portraits of themselves and their family members, through to rude, obscene and satirical depictions of formal political and social relationships, the whole of the late medieval work of art does not adhere to official ideologies.  The margins of a manuscript provide a field for private and eccentric commentary, whether carried out by some alternative artistic programme of the illuminator at some point in the preparation for the inscription of the official text or at a later point, following the scribe’s copying oput of a traditional document, when decorators fill in the page.  There are also instances when bored or frustrated scribes themselves add asides—pictorial as well as verbal—in the margins or other open spaces.  If not overtly subversive in intent, such excrensces may be simply playful squiggles, doodles and personal messages—I am bored, I disagree, I know someone just like this character in the narrative.

We cannot know usually what extempore actions or words were inserted into the performance of the pageant plays by the actors, except by a very few casual remarks in chronicles.  There were a few times recorded, for instance, when the actor hired to depict Jesus being crucified became so caught up in the ecstasy of the moment that he almost killed himself by having real nails driven into his body, or when the players representing Adam and Eve in a Garden of Eden pageant were erotically aroused.  The men hired to play Satan or Judas Iscariot sometimes had to be brought in from distant towns because the audiences would attack local actors after the performance, confusing fiction with reality. Not everyone, by virtue of being born in the early fifteenth century, was au fait with the theories of figurative interpretation of Scripture or the principles of symbolic thought.

Another bizarre characteristic of guilds, brotherhoods, fraternities and similar corporate bodies in the late Middle Ages is that, while nominally they were organized to ensure an orderly, disciplined control over the city and its bourgeois population—matters such as the due progression of apprentices in training towards becoming journeymen and masters, the maintenance of quality control over products and procedures of distribution, the monitoring of prices and wages, and also, as with many social clubs today, sdupervision and chastisement of morals, ethics and charitable works by members ; these guilds were also sites of drinking parties, social-relaese and relief mechanisms, and even, it would seem, emotional outbursts of energy—the so-called rixus in which an enthusiastic, dionysian atmosphere was allowable within certain boundaries.  In times of crisis or uprising,[ii] the corporations could at the same time as they mediated the power-structures of the feudal state, provide direction and opportunity for subversive, revolutionary or heretical thoughts and acts.[iii]  During the 1381 Jack Straw rebellion when large numbers of disaffected townsfolk and especially craftsmen, overseers and guildsmen marched on London demanding an end to threats of reducing them again to serfdom and forced service of overlords, as well as the collaborationist middle class within the city who opened the gates to them and joined in their burning of feudal records and the homes of offending nobles, what was subsequently found during the trial of offenders was that they were not apprentices, servants and outlaws from the countryside causing mayhem for its own sake, but respectable citizens, masters and sometimes professional men such as doctors and lawyers.[iv]  This is also what happened during the so-called Captain Ludd, Captain Swing and other agrarian revolts and sabotage raids, rick-burnings and beating up of toll-officials in the early nineteenth century :[v] to the surprise of the defendants themselvs, the courts revealed that it was good citizens and not riffraff causing the troubles—surprise because an older, more archaic consciousness (or unconsciousness) seemed to take over during the riots.[vi] 



[i] Jean-Paul Simon, “Meditation and Social History of Art” p. 215.

[ii] "Passion, Compotatio, Rixus and the Shameful Thing: English Guilds and the Corpus Christi Cycles" Mentalities/Mentalités  11:2 (1997) 45-60.

[iii] "Peasant Rebellion as a Folk Language", Miorita  3:1 (1977) 16-22.

[iv] "Clamor Horrendissimus - The Sacred Shout in Folklore, Myth and Literature", in Dialogue on Religion - New Zealand Viewpoints 1977  eds. Peter Davis and John Hinchcliff (Auckland University:  Chaplain's Office, 1977), pp. 75-81.

[v] "'Scotch Cattle':  Una forma gallese di spettacolo.  Il dramma folkloristico alla luce della storia del teatro in Europa", Biblioteca Teatrale 23/24 (1979), 117-131.  (Translated by Cesare Molinari.)

[vi] "Ned Ludd's Mummers Play" Folklore  89:2 (1978) 166-178.

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