Prometheus Rebound

I will be blogging about my ongoing project, Prometheus Rebound, on this blog under the same titled page. Prometheus Rebound will be a new digital edition of Aeschylus' Prometheus Bound that catalogs textual variants in 19th century print editions of the play. I'm very excited about this project, especially as a participant at the European Summer School for Digital Humanities at the University of Leipzig this week and next week. I should provide a post or two about my experience here in the coming weeks.

The Value of Columella

Agriculture is central to the human experience. The annual cycle of planting and harvesting has provided the basis for how we work and how we relax. Nothing is more valuable for understanding a society than how they get their food. Because food and agriculture are such fundamental aspects of human society, understanding them provides insights into the worldview and lifestyle of a culture.

Lucius Junius Moderatus Columella was born in Gades (modern Cadiz) in the southwest of Spain, likely early in the 1^st century CE. He is known for his single work De Re Rustica, a twelve book commentary on agriculture. The shorter work De Arboribus is attributed to Columella, but its exact authorship is unknown. It is believed that De Arboribus is the second part of a shorter four book treatise on Agriculture. This seems to be supported by the lack of any concluding remarks; the book just ends with a short discussion on planting violets and rosebushes.

Book IX of De Re Rustica deals with two aspects of a farming life that are generally wilder than most: raising game animals and beekeeping. Most of the book is dedicated to beekeeping, but the chapter on establishing game reserves was quite interesting. I’ve read quite a bit about beekeeping, but very little about stands of deer, hares and boars. Columella recommends using a forest within sight of the farm and building a wall or fence around to keep the animals in. He also recommends digging natural looking troughs so that even if there isn’t a stream or pond in the woods since the game animals won’t be free to wander. He also recommends taming the animals to a certain degree, not so much that they don’t provide a good hunt, but enough that they will accept feed from humans. Columella claims that the best time to slaughter a boar or roebuck is within four years, afterwards the meat becomes too tough and lean to be enjoyed. Deer apparently stay tender longer, as Columella doesn’t attach any particular time limit on when they can be eaten. Hares need to be eaten earlier because their lives aree so much shorter. This system of maintaining game parks ensure that meat will be readily available when a farmer doesn’t want to slaughter one of the domesticated livestock whose value comes from the labor, dairy, wool, or eggs, animals that are more useful alive and in the fields than dead and on the table. Columella notes that these game parks are only a viable option for wealthier farmers who are able to support animals that don’t contribute anything to the farm besides their meat.

The rest of Book IX is dedicated to beekeeping and how to harvest honey and wax. Columella describes how hives should be constructed and what materials work best. He also provides a useful list of what plants and trees should be available to produce the best honey. One of the most interesting parts of the book is where he discusses the various diseases to which bees are susceptible. In an era where many hives are being ravaged by Colony Collapse Disorder, it is important to understand the value of bees. Columella makes clear that there are many diseases that can affect bees and outlines the cures that Roman farmers used when disease struck the hives. His techniques for gathering wild swarms are still the primary methods that beekeepers use today. It was interesting that Columella spent time discussing bee kings, when in fact as we know the queen bee is the leader of the hive and that all of the males are drones. This speaks to the male orientation of Roman society, and while it is factually incorrect the techniques that Columella recommends for handling king bees worked on the queens, they aren’t tied questions of gender.

The primary focus of De Arboribus is not, as the title may suggest, the cultivation of trees and orchards. Rather, most of the book is dedicated to the preparation and maintenance of vineyards. Columella writes on which fields are best suited for vines and how to prepare the land for the plants. Just as he described the diseases that bees face and their requisite cures, he also shares methods for protecting vines from both the dangers of disease and the ravages that fog and mildew can visit on a crop. His advice on pruning and trimming is still followed by many gardeners and arborist today. He advises that plants not be cut back until they’re in their third year. This is in line with the contemporary adage that trees “sleep, creep, and leap” in the first three years after planting. Columella also has two very interesting sections on transplantation and grafting. His grafting techniques demonstrated that contrary to popular belief at the time, trees did not have to be similar to be grafted together, as he demonstrated by grafting a fig and olive tree together. The section of De Arboribus in which Columella writes on trees is just as interesting as his work with vines. He describes methods of orchard preparation and has planting advice for a number of trees, both for their fruits and flowers. He focuses most on olive trees with shorter sections on fruit and nut trees.

The works of Columella are valuable to both scholars and laypeople. One, they’re fascinating, farming has been a central aspect of human existence since it was discovered and seeing how food was produced in one of the greatest empires is valuable for how interesting it is. Beyond reading for pure pleasure, works on ancient agriculture can help modern farmers with their own production methods. Organic farming has seen a major revival in recent years and ancient agriculture is certainly organic. The techniques described in De Re Rustica and De Arboribus paired with modern understanding of botany and agricultural sciences would be helpful for farmers seeking to recapture preindustrial agricultural production methods.  While the specific strains of plants that Columella recommends for various purposes would not be available, modern equivalents could easily stand in.

Columella is also provides a window into what aspects of farms people most valued in the Early Imperial Period. He mentions a number of fruit trees, including apples, pears and figs, but not any oranges or other citrus fruits. This indicates, even to a reader unfamiliar with the text, that Columella’s focus is on the more temperate climes of the Roman heartland, rather than the warmer regions where oranges flourish, like his native southern Spain and nearby North Africa. This provides important contextual information for the reader and allows a greater understanding of Columella’s purpose in writing.

            Ancient agriculture is often overlooked in favor of more glamorous areas of classical study. This is at the expense of all the knowledge and insight that we can glean from methods of food production and other products brought about by agriculture, including textiles and medicines. As the most thorough treatment of Roman agricultural practices there are few works as valuable as those of Columella for the study of this essential aspect of classical life. Columella understood the forces that shape society, from the farmers in the provinces to the elite in Rome, all lives were driven by agriculture. 

Solomon and the Jinn in Classical Islam

Solomon: mighty king, wisest of men, master magician, lord of 1000 jinn. Solomon plays a much larger role in Islam than he does in Christianity where his role as a magician is largely understated. The major focus of his magical work was on the jinn, spirits whose primary essence is fire. The relationship between Solomon and the jinn plays a role in Islamic theology, magic and literature. This relationship appears in numerous aspects of classical Islamic life and is therefore worthy of examination. The submission of the jinn to Solomon is a realization of the first interactions between Adam and the jinn. Solomon ruled the jinn justly and wisely, demonstrating the wisdom and power that can be given to those who submit to the will of God. The Islamic Solomon could not have been who he was without his work with the jinn and the jinn were forever afterwards shaped by the man who commanded them all.

Solomon was the son of David by Bathsheba and ruled the Israelites in the mid-10^th century BCE. He received many gifts from God for his piety including an understanding of all the languages of the world, including those of all the animals. He also received the gifts of wisdom, dominion over human kings, and control over the jinn. He used the jinn in a number of ways, both for transport and for the construction of public works. The jinn carried Solomon on a magnificent carpet whenever he traveled and when he demanded the presence of Bilquis, the Queen of Sheba, it was two ifrits who conveyed her throne to Jerusalem. The jinn also played a major role the the public works that Solomon constructs in Jerusalem, most prominently the Temple. In the Islamic tradition the Temple in Jerusalem was built with jinnic and demonic labor. While Solomon commanded both jinn and demons to work on the temple, the jinn did not perform the menial tasks of quarrying and preparing the stone. The jinn were primarily craftsmen; they worked on the metal domes and the art work of the Temple. The jinn were known for their skill with metal, unsurprising for spirits of fire. The jinn had many associations with metalworking, both artistically and functionally. In fact, there are several places in pre Islamic poetry where legendary swords are attributed to jinn craftsmen.

Officially Solomon is not described as a magician; that term has a negative connotation in orthodox Islam. This is because of the problem of reconciling the power that a magician has with the submissive attitude that is central to Islam. This negative association with magic was shared by the other two Abrahamic religions in the Middle Ages and prejudices against magic exist to this day.  The conflict between magic and religion arises from the different attitudes that are required for magic and religion. Generally, religion is more passive, things happen to a believer, and magic is more active, a magician acts upon the world. However, as Solomon demonstrates, it is possible to reconcile the two worldviews.

Solomon, as a prophet and one who is beloved to God, is aware of where his power originates and therefore avoids those negative aspects that Muslims associate with magic. His faith is reinforced by several Qur’anic stories, including the period in which he was temporarily deposed by Sakhr the Rebellious, a jinni who caused problems at several points throughout Solomon’s reign. These instances, particularly when Solomon is temporarily deposed by Sakhr the Rebellious, in which God reasserts Solomon’s humility serve as a reminder that even those to whom God gives many gifts must be as submissive as every being in the universe.

The state of submission is central to Islam and Solomon provides a wonderful example of the struggle for submission. Bowing completely to the will of another being, even the almighty ruler of the universe is incredibly difficult and requires a lot of will power. Solomon’s struggle and his occasional failures must have struck a chord with many early Muslims. Their own struggles with the demands that God had placed on them must have seemed more bearable when there was an example of one of God’s beloveds who likewise had difficulties with submission.  Solomon’s eventual triumph, reclaiming the throne in Jerusalem, demonstrated the rewards that God bestowed on those with the willpower and submissive attitude demanded in Islam. In many ways, that makes Solomon a more human figure than some of the other prophets who were more perfect in their devotion.

            Solomon’s role as a magician also plays a major role in medieval Judeo-Christian magic, particularly in the grimoire tradition of high magic. A grimoire is a magical text, an instruction manual for performing spells and working magic. Grimoires are a major primary source that scholars have for studying magic in the Middle Ages, both in Europe and the Islamic world. Manuscripts in Greek, Latin and Hebrew from the 14^th- 17^th centuries claim to be transmissions of magical texts written by Solomon. While these manuscripts could not have been penned by Solomon, there are textual conventions that would not have been used in 9^th BCE century Israel. However, their existence is indicative of a tradition in medieval Europe that links Solomon with magic. One of the latest of these manuscripts is the Lesser Key of Solomon, which first appeared in the 17^th century. The Lesser Key of  Solomon is a manual for raising spirits and binding them to the service of the magician. The Lesser Key of Solomon is particularly similar to the Islamic stories in which Solomon binds some rebel jinni in a jar or other vessel. The Lesser Key describes 72 spirits that Solomon trapped in a vessel of brass.

            While the European text does not describe the spirits as jinn, they are as close as a Christian context allows. The spirits in the Lesser Key are goetic spirits, beings that can be conjured by “goetia” or magical techniques that use material elements to persuade spirits to do the bidding of the magician. They are among the nobility of Hell, spirits who inhabit the realm of flame. The similarities between the entities named in the Lesser Key and the jinn are strengthened when one looks at the social structures in place in jinnic and goetic societies. Like the goetic spirits, the jinn live in a monarchial society, under the leadership of 10 kings of the jinn. For example, in “The Tale of Kamar al-Zaman” the jinniyah Maymunah is a daughter of al-Dimiryat, a “renowned King of the Jann” (Burton 171).While the goetic spirits in the Lesser Key are demons, the jinn are not. It is important to understand that using the term “demon” to describe the jinn is a misnomer. While the Greeks used the word to describe all spirits, good and evil, our understanding and the one that occasionally appears in translations of the Arabian Nights associates the word with exclusively wicked spirits. As we have seen, this is not the case with the jinn. An unnamed jinniyah in “The Tale of Nur al-Din Ali and his Son Badr al-Din Hasan” is a Muslim, a “True Believer”. Therefore, the jinn are not bound to evil or iniquity, but rather possess free will as humans do and can be good or evil. Just as a fire can protect or destroy, so can the jinn be good or evil. A tendency to assign malignant terminology to these spirits represents a fundamental misunderstanding of their essence and cosmological role in the universe. There is a clear distinction between demons and jinn in classical Islamic writings.  In fact Lives of the Prophets, the text that I used for Solomon’s biography makes clear the distinction between jinn and demons by seating the jinn on iron benches and the demons on brazen benches at Solomon’s table.

The relationship between Solomon and the jinn extends beyond the realms of the theological and magical. Solomon plays a major role in many of the stories that feature jinn in 1001 Arabian Nights. It is important to realize that works of literature and folklore can prove just as valuable as Qur’anic and hadith literature in the study of the jinn. Arabian Nights serves as one of the most valuable sources of knowledge about the jinn. Like most fairytales, the stories in 1001 Arabian Nights were composed anonymously and were only collected because they were so widely told. They are the Grimms’ of the Islamic world and represent public understanding about the jinn, magic, and the fantastical. In that light, they are an invaluable asset in any study of the jinn and the role they played in classical Islam.

The jinn appear in a particularly major role in the frame narrative told by Scheherazade, “The Fisherman and the Jinni”. In this tale a fisherman draws a brass vessel sealed with lead and marked by the Seal of Solomon. When he opens the jar a huge jinni emerges. This unnamed jinni, an ally of Sakhr, the jinni who initially refused to serve Solomon, was one of several that Solomon locked up as punishment, similar to the 72 spirits detailed in the Lesser Key of Solomon. Solomon’s assessment of the spirit seems to have been accurate: the jinni’s plan is to kill the first person he sees after being released. While the unnamed jinni claims that in the first 500 years of his imprisonment he would have been merciful to his liberator, the next 500 years have pushed him over the edge. Luckily, as all too often happens in literary and folkloric interactions between humans and jinn, the fisherman is able to use his wits and escape the jinn, using the same techniques that Scheherazade uses to preserve her own life: guile and storytelling.

“The Tale of Kamar al-Zaman” also shows one of the aspects of the relationship between Solomon and the jinn. When Maymunah calls the Ifrit Dahnash ibn Shamhurish, he beseeches her to be merciful in the name of God as it appears on the seal of Solomon’s signet ring. The ring was used to bind many jinn into the service of a human king. Beyond the mystical power it commanded, the ring served as an emblem of power, but more importantly of the grace and mercy of God as seen through his servant, Solomon. This means many Muslims, the people who would have heard the tales and retold them shaping them into the collected work 1001 Arabian Nights held that Solomon was as just as he was wise.  The tales demonstrate that he treated even his slaves with the dignity that their power merited.

As “The Tale of Kamar al-Zaman” indicates, much of Solomon’s power is tied to his ring. Solomon’s ring appears throughout the Islamic-Judeo-Christian world. The grimoires described the ring as being adorned with a seal that bears several names of god. The Islamic description of the ring is similar; that ring has a four pointed seal, each side of which bears a different name for God and represents a different aspect of Solomon’s dominion. The sides show his dominion over the jinn, animals, human kings and creatures of the sea.

There are rings other than Solomon’s that have power over the jinn in Islamic folklore, including a ring that plays a major role in one of the most well-known of the tales in Arabian Nights. No discussion of the jinn would be complete without a treatment of the tale of “Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp”, which is among the most popular and misused tales in the Arabian Nights. In the original tale, there are two jinn, one bound in a ring and a more powerful jinni bound in an oil lamp. These jinn are bound to serve their master completely without the “three wishes” limitation that has appeared so often in popular culture in recent years. In the original story the jinn play a similar role to that played by the jinn in building the Temple of Jerusalem. These jinn obey their master without question or impudence.

 It is interesting to look at the differences between the jinn in “Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp” and the jinni in “The Fisherman and the Jinni”. The two jinn in “Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp” are not released from imprisonment when they leave their vessel. This likely represents a different binding used by the magician who bound these jinn in their respective prisons. It would seem that the unnamed magician or magicians responsible for those bindings was not a merciful as Solomon, who despite trapping the jinni in the vessel of brass for 1,800 years, did not bind him to the vessel perpetually as these two jinn seem to be. The tale does not address either of their fates or indeed their origins and how they came to be bound in the ring and the lamp. The temporary punishments that Solomon uses on rebel slaves speaks to the mercy that he exhibits toward that jinn in his service. While there are some who are punished for misbehavior, by and large Solomon seems to have treated the jinn justly.

Having looked at the relationship that Solomon had with the jinn, it is also important to look at what the jinn are and their larger role in Islamic cosmology. This adds dimension to the relationship.  First and foremost, the jinn are not material in the same way that humans are. Their fundamental essence is of smokeless fire. The jinn possess free will, but are more proud than humans are. That is in part why they are sometimes described as demons. Most resent submitting to humans and only do so under duress or at the command of God and his prophets. For a parallel within “western” culture, the jinn are most similar to fairies in Celtic mythology. Both are understood to be whimsical and mischievous, both are very dangerous. Both are maligned as wicked and have now been made nonthreatening in popular culture.

There are several classes of jinn, including most prominently the Ifrit and the Marid. The Ifrit, huge jinn who almost exclusively manifest as giants, are mentioned once in the Qur’an, Solomon tasks one with bringing the throne of the Queen of Sheba from Sheba to Jerusalem. Marids frequently appear in extra-Qur’anic stories featuring Solomon, particularly those in 1001 Arabian Nights. It seems that jinn can belong to both classes as the jinni released by the fisherman in “The Fisherman and the Jinni” is referred to as an Ifrit, but the fisherman addresses him as a Marid. It is unclear whether the fisherman is unaware of a difference between the classes, is attempting to use the term as an honorific or whether the jinni is both a Marid and an Ifrit. There are also ghuls and shaytans, which are in the camp of Iblis and are almost exclusively described as wicked.  The ghuls are desert scavengers who will fall upon wayward travelers and the shaytans are tempters, who work to draw believers away from Islam.   

Not only do the jinn have monarchies as humans and the goetic spirits do, they also live lives very similar to humans in a number of other aspects. The jinn are mortal, as are all beings other than God, though they are incredibly long lived. They marry and have children. They have jobs and wage wars and create works of art. This is a far cry from the free will lacking angels who spend the whole of their existence perpetually singing the praises of God. There is even a tradition in which every person has a three doubles in the universe: a star in the sky, a leaf on the Tree of Life and a jinni known as a qarin. Purportedly, your qarin’s life will double yours exactly, they will have children when you have children, and will die when you die. Some traditions claim that your qarin is in the camp of Iblis and is a personal tempter, but others just acknowledge the existence of these spirit doubles without attaching any moral judgment to them.

The smokeless fire of which the jinn are composed also affects the interactions between humans and the jinn. For example, the consensus of the stories in 1001 Arabian Nights is that humans are better than the jinn, for all their power. Humans inevitably come out as the victors in a conflict. Even if the jinni or jinniyah in question has had many other victims of his or her ire, the clever hero will be able to outwit or overcome the jinni.  The tendency of humans to outwit or overpower jinn is usually explained by the use of water in the creation of mankind. Humans, made of earth or mud, possess the power to quench the smokeless fire of the jinn. In a desert culture, water is life. For all of the power and awe that fire can inspire, water is the source of all life and is the most valuable resource a society can have.

Popularly, at least according to 1001 Arabian Nights, there are jinn who are also Muslims. In “The Tale of Nur al-Din Ali and his Son Badr al-Din Hasan” Badr al-Din Hasan falls asleep on his father’s tomb and is taken from there by a jinniyah on a bet with one of her fellow jinn that there is a woman in Cairo who is equal to the youth in beauty. The text is clear that the jinn who frequent this cemetery are of the “True Believers” (Burton 119). The possibility that jinn have free will and use it to submit to God indicates that the jinn are not fundamentally wicked, as some may suggest. The belief that the jinn are wholly wicked is largely based on the belief that Iblis, the Islamic Satan is a rebel jinni (18:48). Iblis had been among the jinn who were “True Believers”, but when God created Adam, Iblis refused to submit. He gathered the wicked jinn who would not acknowledge the supremacy of man and rebelled from God. This shares a number of details with the Christian belief about the Fall of Satan, but because Islamic angels do not possess free will, it would be impossible for an angel to rebel and subsequently fall from the grace of God. Only beings capable of free agency have the capacity to disobey and thereby rebel against the will of God.

The relationship between the three intelligences extends beyond their agency of free will. There are parallels to be drawn between the relationships between humans, jinn, and angels and the three alchemical principles: Salt, Mercury, and Sulfur. Humans, made of earth, can be understood as Salt, the material body. Angels can be associated with Sulfur, the soul, the higher principle. Jinn serve as intermediaries between the two, neither wholly of the material world nor of the spiritual world. They are like Mercury, the animating force, the spirit. Jinn, made of fire, are denser than light and less than earth. They share properties of the other two beings, while retaining individual traits of their own. These parallels reflect the interactions between alchemy and theology in the classical Islamic world. Alchemy experienced a Golden Age in medieval Islam and the spiritual aspects of alchemy were in part informed by Islam. It is likely that aspects of Alchemical philosophy also helped to shape some of the ideas that Muslims had about cosmology. As we discussed in class, Muslim philosophy is largely Neoplatonic and alchemy and the other two hermetic arts: magic and astrology are built on similar philosophical principles.

An understanding of Solomon as Magician cannot be undertaken unless it is paired with an examination of the spirits he worked most closely with in the Qur’an and Islamic folklore: jinn. An analysis of the role of the jinn in Islamic cosmology and the relationships that they have with humans and with God helps us understand how they worked with Solomon and why the work he did with them, most prominently the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem, was believed to be possible.

Sources Cited

al-Kisai, Muhammad ibn Abd Allah . Tales of the Prophets. 1st. Chicago: KAZI Publications, 1997. 19-23, 288-321. Print.

Amira, El-Zein. Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of Jinn. 1st . Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2009. Print.

Skinner, Stephen. The Complete Magician's Tables. 3rd. Woodbury, Minnesota: Llewellyn Worldwide, 2012. 144. Print.

Illes, Judika. Encylopedia of Spirits. New York: Harper One, 2009.

Bartlett, Robert Allan. Real Alchemy: A Primer of Practical Alchemy. 3rd. Lake Worth, FL: Ibis Press, 2009. 7-29. Print.

Flowers, Stephen Edred. Hermetic Magic: The Postmodern Magical Papyrus of Arabis. 1st. York Beach, ME: Weiser, 1995. 102. Print.

Mathers, S. Liddell Macgregor. "The Key of Solomon the King." Internet Sacred Text Archive. Internet Sacred Text Archive, n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://www.sacred-texts.com/grim/kos/index.htm>. 

Mathers, S. Liddell Macgregor. "The Lesser Key of Solomon the King." Internet Sacred Text Archive. Internet Sacred Text Archive, n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://www.sacred-texts.com/grim/lks/index.htm>.

Burton, Sir Richard F. Arabian Nights: The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night. 1st. London: Barnes and Noble, 2007. 29-39, 111-142, 167-210, 423-472. Print.

Burton, Sir Richard F. The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night. 2nd. 1-3. New York: The Heritage Press, 1962. 47-54, 3655-3673. Print.

Warner, Marina. Stranger Magic: Charmed States and the Arabian Nights. 1st. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011. 36-54. Print.

Magic in Dr. Faustus

By looking at the magic of the Late Middle Ages and Early Renaissance Faustus’ dilemmas and inner strife become easier to understand .With that understanding comes a greater sympathy for Faustus and his eventual damnation. His magic defines him, the same way a priest is defined by his religion. In many ways the magician is a priest to himself, the Pope of the Church of One. Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus is the archetypal renaissance magus, a king among conjurers. In the play his magic both parallels historical magical practice and reveals an important element of Faustus’ character that explains his lack of faith: his essential nature is that of a magician. His spirit is trapped between the magic that he feels called to and the religion that has surrounded him his entire life.

In the Middle Ages magic and religion were irreconcilable belief systems, the two disciplines were separated primarily by their different views of spirits and whether power in life was superior to the eternal life after death promised by the church. In the pagan world, this dynamic would not have led to as much inner turmoil as it did in the Middle Ages. Many polytheistic religions saw death as comparable to a sleep, with only a shade left to wander the underworld. However when monotheism conquered the ancient world spirits who were not aligned with the Judeo-Christian god were demonized and an afterlife in which consciousness was preserved became the common belief system. Magic and religion were incompatible with each other in that spiritualist paradigm. The magician does not care about the moral alignment of the spirits he works with, they are powerful beings to be controlled and nothing more; the priest on the other hand is concerned primarily with the morality of a spirit. Faustus believes that heaven and hell matter not, a magician’s argument to the problem of conjuring demons. Faustus is a magician at the core of his being and so experiences dissonance between his nature and the environment he exists in.

Despite Faustus’ natural inclination toward a magical view of the universe, his greatest flaw as a magician is a product of the religious world that he was a part of. A belief commonly held by the historical magicians of the period was that the best way for one to protect oneself is to only form temporary contracts: they can be dissolved. Religions tend to favor permanent contracts, binding a worshipper to a deity in service, while magicians tend to be more mercurial and less willing to make a permanent commitment to one camp or another.  By forming a permanent contract with Lucifer--his soul for 24 years of power--Faustus failed to learn the lesson law, “too servile and illiberal for him” (A1.1.36) would have taught him. Faustus is trapped by the religious world he lives in and is unable to separate his magic from the faith that surrounds him. Despite his belief that he is not worthy of salvation he feels a need for a deity and because Lucifer interacts with him and provides him with the worldly powers he desires, Faustus binds himself to the evil spirits. When he makes the pact with Lucifer he thinks like a religious person, perhaps under the influence of Mephistopheles as in the B-Text (5.2.91-96), and not as a magician would. He is a kind of inverted priest in the sense that while he cares little for the moral nature of the spirits he allies himself with, he binds himself to one camp in perpetuity. He ends up servile for all eternity.

Magic in Faustus’ period was based on celestial and infernal hierarchies: spirits had their place in the universe just as each person did. Part of magic’s appeal to Faustus is in spite of its hierarchal nature, it allows him to transcend the medieval world. In the play he interacts with the whole of the social spectrum, from a poor horse courier all the way up to the Holy Roman Emperor. He uses magic to carve out a thoroughly modern world. He is able to stand apart from the hierarchy as an individual, the hallmark of the modern world, where what one does is by one’s own merits and no one should interfere with another’s business. His individuality in a communal society makes him more sympathetic. Modernity arose when the hierarchal society of the Middle Ages fell away in favor of the individual. Rather than a collective society where everyone knew their place and had little to no chance of social advancement, the modern age meant individuals standing up and defining themselves by their own merits rather than by the demands of a community. It led to innovators and great thinkers, including Faustus, a magician and scholar. Faustus becomes the modern individual, concerned with his role in this world rather than his place in the next. He more closely resembles a modern individual as a result of his magic, making his damnation harder to stomach.

In class we discussed reading the play through a Lucretian lens and in many ways magic is more compatible with Epicurean philosophy than religion is. Magic is about working on this world and focusing on the matter at hand while religion is focused on what happens next, always looking toward the future. A major Lucretian tenet is that pleasure comes from seeking knowledge and living a life of contemplation. The ceremonial magic of Faustus’ period often had similar goals. For example, in The Lesser Key of Solomon, a popular magical text of the period, by far the majority of the spirits described in the text’s Shemshamphorash (a catalogue of spirits) serve as teachers to the magician. For example, Ashtaroth, is the 29^th spirit in the Lesser Key. He teaches “all Liberal Sciences”, a truly Lucretian pursuit. We see Faustus for the most part living out the Lucretian ideals of pleasure from study and contemplation. In act one Faustus discusses the possibilities of worldly power with Valdes and Cornelius, in the scenes that follow he is more concerned with a desire to step back and learn about the nature of the world around him.

The notable exceptions to Faustus’ quest for knowledge are the comic scenes in which he uses his powers to deceive and trick. Those show a more Christian outlook with the role of the magician as a servant of the powers of evil rather than a scholar who dares to plumb the unseen waters and seek wisdom from darkness allowing enlightenment. The A-Text lacks most of the comic scenes making the play and Faustus more sympathetic.  In the A-Text he is more a scholar and less the trickster, a role the masses would have adored, because in his role as a trickster they would not have to feel any pity for his fate. In some ways by making him more wicked, he is less scary. If he is an evil character then the audience does not have to worry about his damnation and can go home, content with the end, all as it should be. On the other hand if Faustus is primarily a scholar who uses his magic the same way a priest uses scripture, then his fate becomes less easy to stomach, leaving the audience no longer at ease.

Faustus is defined by his magic. He suffers because of his nature and as a result he is more sympathetic to the audience. His strife and struggles to reconcile his nature with the demands of society lead to his damnation at the hands of the medieval conservative elite, Lucifer.  He is a modern man, an individual who stands on his own for a brief moment before being dragged back into the hellish medieval world he had struggled against. It is difficult not to feel for a man who overreached the constraints of his world and dared to dream of what was, and is, and will be. 

The Consumption of Human Flesh in the Works of Neil Gaiman

Bodily consumption of one character by another appears in several places in Neil Gaiman’s work as a medium for a variety of purposes, most prominently the transfer of power and the fulfillment of an eternal and archetypal role. From Sandman and American Gods to Harlequin Valentine, beings of several different backgrounds consume humans or parts of humans and gain power as a result of that act.

The only example of someone eating human flesh in the works that we have read so far occurs at the end of Harlequin Valentine, when Missy, knowing whose heart she has, eats it and takes on the role of “Harlequin”. Since the general consensus is that eating a heart is not going to transform a person into the previous owner of said heart, it can be concluded that either this heart is special or the actions performed on the heart have elevated it to a higher spiritual state. When the Harlequin nailed his heart to her door and the subsequent scene where Missy eats it remembering that she is not eating the heart of a human is key. What she is actually eating is a significant portion of the soul of an archetypal stock character in the form of a human heart. Bearing that in mind makes the act seem less grisly and thus it can be more acceptable to the reader. Her subsequent transformation into the Harlequin lends a new meaning to the adage “you are what you eat.”

Early in American Gods Gaiman provides a vignette of a “Queen of Sheba” like figure, Bilquis. Bilquis, a prostitute in LA, traps one of her johns into worshiping her as a goddess allowing her to use his lust as a power source and ultimately she consumes him with her vulva. She requests that the man, a film producer, light a candle and “worship her with his body” (American Gods 29). During the act of lovemaking, as he calls out epithets and names of praise to her, he slowly gives up his soul in offering to her. As he offers up his soul, he sacrifices his body, slipping into her completely. She is revitalized by his energy and continues to exist as a result of the rite. As the act occurs vaginally as opposed to orally it is not ingestion, but it is a consumption of human flesh and therefore a valid example of the transfer of power that such an act can represent in Gaiman’s work.

In the world of American Gods, the power of the gods is derived from faith and belief, hence the central premise of the novel, a war between the old gods and the new ones. Bilquis needs the worship of her johns to survive. She needs to receive the devotion and adoration of her victims to continue to exist. Their self-sacrifice on the altar of lust generates energy that she as a nonhuman divine entity is able to feed on.

Another, less visceral example of flesh consumption in American Gods is Mr. Jaquel, Anubis, tasting the organs of the patrons of the funeral parlor he runs with Mr. Ibis, Thoth. This serves a purpose less familiar to our conception of survival, but essential to whom and what Jaquel is. It is not the flesh that Anubis feeds on and the act is not in fact a feeding, rather it is a fulfillment of the role that he plays in the universe. An abiding theme of Gaiman’s work, from Odd and the Frost Giants to American Gods is the eternal and unchanging nature of gods; it is an essential part of their role in the universe that they perform as they do. In Gaiman’s work the gods tend to represent the archetypal and unchanging forces that govern the universe. In that light it is not for energy that Jaquel eats the organs of his clients, rather a fulfillment of his role of god of embalming and attendant to the weighing of the heart in the Hall of Judgment. He is playing his role as a jackal, a scavenger, yet it seems to Shadow to be “respectful, not obscene” (American Gods 201).

In Sandman: Season of Mists the demon Azazel attempts to consume the power of Dream in the heart of his demesne. In the graphic novel he is depicted as a cloud of darkness like a tear in the fabric of the universe covered with sets of sharp and predatory teeth. While he does not succeed in his attempts to consume Dream, this example is significant in the way that he describes the act. Azazel makes it perfectly clear that what he desires more than the body is the soul that is attached to the body (Sandman # 27). The flesh is a vehicle for the spiritual energy that he desires, much the way food is a vehicle for the nutrients that we need. Here the intended consumption is not actually achieved. However, because this is the point where the significance of such an act is most explicitly described it therefore bears mentioning.

The uniting theme of these examples is not only that they involve the consumption of human flesh, but also that spiritual preparation went into the acts. Bilquis prepares her victim by having him worship her. He empties his soul into the act of lovemaking and she is able to take that piece of his soul and use it. Ultimately his body is a vessel for the spiritual energy that the victim has infused it with. He pours all of his energy into his lust for her and brings forth his soul as a result of that total outpouring of emotion; he willingly and joyfully sacrifices his soul to her. Harlequin plucks his heart and love for Missy out of his chest and that takes a good deal of his soul with it; as a stock character he is more spiritual than material and so consuming part of his soul has a much larger effect on Missy than the body and spiritual energy of the materialist film producer that Bilquis consumes and the small tastes that Jaquel makes in the funeral parlor. All of these examples are brought about by acts of love, extremely pleasurable experiences or holy and reverent acts. Love is what allows Harlequin to offer up his soul to Missy and love, or rather its more primal counterpart, allows Bilquis to feed. Jacquel eats as he does in reverence and love for those who have passed on. This is in fact the ultimate nature of sacrifice: it is a material offering infused with spiritual significance, much the way a gas may be trapped by bubbling it through water, the spiritual energy of a sacrifice could be fixed in the material being offered. 

While gruesome and unpleasant for the reader, the acts of consumption play a pivotal role in the lives of the characters involved, acts of transformation that lead them into a new role or preserve their existence. These scenes reflect cycles of predator and prey made more acceptable by the fact that the aspect that is useful to the predator lies not in the flesh, but in the spiritual energy that the flesh has been endowed with. The power that the predators have gained allows them a larger role in the cosmic scheme of things. It is the cycle of nature that moves beyond the material and into the esoteric.