Theater and the Sacred in the Middle Ages

Thus, there appeared evidence that science is just another cultural system – like religion, politics, art, literature and even language – subject to similar rules: innovations gain supporters due to the quest for novelty, for “religious conversions” (Thomas S. Kuhn’s expression; qtd. after Fuller 1992: 247, fn. 22), and persist by virtue of their incomparability with the old, their ability to reappear in ever new variants, and intensive propaganda, the promotion of faith. Not because the old solutions were worse, but because the number of their followers kept decreasing until they finally died out (Stegmüller 1979: 747). Max Planck went as far as to formulate the bitterly humorous law of “the displacement of theory through the extinction of its supporters” (Stegmüller 1979: 747).

Nowadays, we return to literature in search for evidence recognized by more recent theories, which cannot help but work despite doubt in the credibility of many, though not all, documents – even those written on exquisite parchment in most solemn Latin, embellished with tassels of most distinguished seals. Indeed, criticism did not spare the seals, too, which were exposed as little propaganda vessels.

Confronted with the old text in such conditions, we must constantly wonder: What allows us to understand it, what can and cannot be “learned from it,” what kind of knowledge does it provide? And, whether this knowledge was deliberately inserted in the text or accidentally slipped into it? Finally, can we reach it through cooperation with the author or by using special tools? To get a sense of the situation, let us listen to a story.

In addition, he later disgraced me.

It had by then come to such a pass

that a day had been appointed

when Reynaert should swear

his innocence in court. But as soon

as the relics were brought,

he changed his mind

and escaped us in his stronghold.

My lord, this is well known among the highest

of those who have come here to court.

Reynaert, that vicious animal,

has done me so much harm;

I am quite convinced:

if all the cloth now made in Ghent

were parchment, I should not have

enough to describe it all.

That is why I prefer to be silent about it,

but my wife’s disgrace

must neither be overlooked,

nor not hushed up, nor remain without revenge.”

When Ysingrijn had spoken thus

a small dog stood up, called Cortoys,

and complained to the king in French

how a while ago it had been so poor

that it had had nothing left

one winter when there was a frost

except for one sausage

and that Reynaert, the scoundrel,

had stolen that very sausage from him.

Tybeert the cat was roused to fury.

This is how he began his speech

and he jumped into the middle of the circle

and he said “My Lord King,

because you bear Reynaert ill will

there is no one here, young nor old,

or he has something to charge him with before you.

What Cortoys is complaining of now

happened many a year ago.

The sausage was mine, but I don’t complain.

I had got hold of it craftily

when one night, looking for something to bag,

I went into a mill

where I stole the sausage

from a sleeping miller.

If Cortoys profited by it at all

this was entirely my doing.

It would only be right to dismiss

the complaint that Cortoys makes.”

Pancer the beaver spoke: “Do you think it right,

Tybeert, that the complaint should be dismissed?

Reynaert really is a murderer

and a cheat and a thief.

Also, there is nobody he likes so much,

not even my lord the king,

that he would not wish him to lose

life and honour if that might get him

a succulent bite of a chicken.

And a trap, what do you say of that?

Did he not yesterday, in broad daylight,